Who We Are
by BrookeSutter
Summary: Two months after the 47 return, the Ark leaders want to start a war with the grounders. Clarke won't have it. Bellamy/Clarke.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion as the sound of his snoring brought her back from a light slumber. She gritted her teeth in annoyance, sighing heavily before she let her arm fall to the side of the bed. Her fingers moved across the metal floor until she felt the familiar polyester cotton blend of the black shirt she borrowed from Octavia.

"_Fuck princess, you're so damn sexy…" _ Her mind ran through every groan, every grunt, every dirty statement that escaped Bellamy's mouth three hours ago. He was _extremely _vocal in his desires, advances, and actions when it came to their sexual relationship. Her eyes dragged across his tan skin, taking in the scars and damage from their time on Earth. Had it really only been three months? Two since the 47 were freed—where was the time going? How long had they been casually hooking up?

She pressed her teeth down on her swollen red lips, feeling hazy and sore. "Where are you going?" She did not like hearing him ask the question—his signature question, really. He moved his arm slowly across the bed, grabbing her wrist and gently pulling her back down to the mattress. She rested her head on his bare chest for a moment, tempted to fall asleep. "Where do you go?" His voice was low as a finger twirled through her hair.

No response.

"You don't talk to me anymore." He huffed, sliding his finger up towards her scalp—massaging her with his fingertips.

"I didn't realize sex required talking." She nearly moaned at the sensation. "I really must go."

"And if I asked you to stay?"

She sighed, "I really have to go, Bellamy."

"Dammit, Clarke."

-100-

The sing-song melody of bird flying around her caused her to stop in her steps; the crunching of leaves ceasing. Her blue eyes surveyed the fluttering of wings, the anthem captivating her for mere seconds before she returned to reaching her desired destination. It was a four hour walk but one she did every two weeks, claiming she was going hunting but always returning empty handed. She yawned as she reached the river, her face turning upwards. Her eyes traveled along the abandoned, ragged sign reading the name of the place she'd been four times. _"Watermelon Park" _

It used to be a camp ground but it was overgrown and neglected over the last 97 years. She knew that she was in Berryville because of the fading map in her back pocket. She did not know _why _Berryville was the chosen location. "You made it." She heard a familiar voice greet her and she tried to contain a smile but she could not.

"Yes." Clarke said, extending her hand out to her former equivalent. "Lexa, it's good to see you."

Lexa's dark smirk graced her face, "So, I assume you have information for me?"

It started the day the 47 were returned and the Ark declared they no longer needed the grounders but wished to remain "peaceful"—Clarke and Lexa seemed to look right through their motives and into their greedy schemes. The Ark believed they could take advantage of the grounders much like the Mountain Men. Their Darwinism-soaked minds flew into overdrive as they prepared for battle, trained soldiers, and planned a full-scale attack to acquire land and labor. Clarke did not like the fact that they were using the word "labor" as a euphemism for slavery.

Clarke battled beside Lexa too many times to betray her. Her people could assimilate into the Ark all they wanted. They could be bossed around, treated like children, forced to take the unwanted jobs, accept the fact that they were being degraded every single day… not her. She hoped for a rebellion, planted seeds in Watermelon Park and prayed for rebellion even if she lacked a religious bone in her body. She waited for rebellion. And once the revolution started and her people, along with whoever chose not to live under the Exodus Charter, would need alliances and resources to survive. They would need land and protection until they could survive on their own and co-exist with the grounders.

She would call it preparation for the inevitable. Her mother would call it treason.

But she'd been accused of treason before and she was aware that the people of the Ark had a funny definition for _treason. _ When they accuse someone of treason, it's because that person is trying to fight for what they believe in—such as saving innocent lives, protecting their loved-ones, and trying to defend natural rights.

If she was a traitor, so be it. She wasn't about to let her friend fight an unnecessary war when so many of her people were recovering from the mountain still. "Training is continuing, my informant says that Kane is getting antsy. He wants a war and he wants it now. He wants to exert his dominance and prove that they have a right to this land. All of it."

Lexa sighed, her voice rough and cold as she processed the information. "People do not learn. Your people are making the same mistakes as people who lived hundreds of years before us."

"My people are not the leaders of Camp Jaha." Clarke corrected her, "My people are the youth. I'm confident that my plan will work, Lexa, I just need time."

"I have given you time and every time we have this meeting, you return with negative results." Lexa was annoyed, "Your people simply do not want to fight."

"They need a reason."

Lexa threw her hands up, "Hundreds dead. That is a reason. If they do not care for innocent lives—they are worse than your leaders. They are enablers…they are…" Lexa was deep in thought as she recalled stories of leaders—hated and loved; cruel and compassionate; unjust and benevolent. "They are the neighbors."

"What?"

"They are the people who lived next door to concentration camps and did nothing to stop it." Lexa huffed, "If _your_ people allow _my _people to be attacked—they are the neighbors. They are blind, they are fools. They are worse than your leaders because they _let _it happen even if they had the resources and ability to stop it. You are a brave woman, Clarke, but you cannot fight this battle by yourself."

She did not know how to respond but she managed to choke out, "I'm barely a leader anymore, Lexa."

"You have been possessed with the spirit of a leader." Lexa told her, "You were born with images of Earth in your mind—you told me how you drew and drew a place you were destined to never see. You are here, now. The only explanation for that type of fate is the fact that one of our great leaders must have reached you because you are a worthy soul." She did not believe in the grounder's myths but she allowed Lexa to roughly explain to her why she would never stop being a leader. "You were born to lead on Earth. Embrace your birthright and do not waste time on doubt."

They discussed other matters about _after _the revolution until Clarke felt the afternoon sun on her back. Lexa observed her reaction to the heat, tossing her a canteen. "Don't you need this for your trip back?"

"I don't travel alone. I'm not the only one with water." Lexa explained, "I'm surprised you haven't asked why I bring you this far out to have a quick conversation."

"It's crossed my mind a few times but I don't mind the walk." Clarke shrugged, "I'm trying to get in shape." The blonde smirked before she brought the canteen to her lips. Lexa enjoyed her small joke because Clarke was clearly in shape despite her womanly curves.

"When you run, I want you to know your way home." Lexa told her, "You have been granted this land. It is far enough away from Camp Jaha, it is close enough to my people. Of course, we will settle the finality of this in a well-designed treaty much later but as a fellow leader…as a friend…I want you to know that what you are doing for my people is widely appreciated."

Her eyes widened, "Lexa…you don't—"

Lexa smiled, her hand raised to stop Clarke from talking. "You once told me that the ark people sent you down here because you were expendable. It was their mistake but my gain, I suppose. You should head back as soon as possible before you are trapped in the dark with the beasts."

"What about you? We could walk together."

She exhaled, "I have to check up on my people, Clarke but thank you."

"See you in two weeks."

"See you in two weeks." Lexa said with a soft nod before retreating in the opposite direction.

-100-

It was late afternoon by the time she returned to camp, her arms empty handed as usual. The guards had running jokes about her lack of aim. Little did they know that she could shoot them in between their eyes with a gun or a bow and arrow—perks, she claimed, of being friends with the commander during war time. Lexa insisted that Clarke have the proper training when it came to fighting if they were going to be together all the time. They couldn't have her slipping up or _missing _if they were under attack…and with the animosity from other grounders, Clarke had to know how to protect herself so she didn't "bring harm to the commander indirectly" as one of her warrior trainers told her.

She handed the gun back to one of the guards, who held a smug expression on his face. Before he could insult her, a hand patted her shoulder twice. "I will never understand how you always come back with _nothing_. You could at least catch a rabbit or something." Miller joked, removing his hand from Clarke's shoulder as Bellamy joined them. "Nothing again, man. Good thing we don't count on Clarke for the meals around here."

Bellamy met her eyes, searching her face for her true reasoning for leaving. She knew Bellamy wasn't an idiot, he relied on instinct and his instinct was telling him that Clarke was doing something else with her time. Clarke turned her head away from him, forcing a laugh. "I'm a lousy shot, I guess." She could still feel his gaze as Miller continued with his jokes on her hunting abilities.

"Where'd you get that canteen?" _Shit. _

She opened her mouth, thinking before she lied to Bellamy again. "I found it."

"Where?" Bellamy crossed his arms, "Where do you go to hunt anyway? You've been gone almost nine hours. You've got a little bit of a tan, too."

Clarke shook her head, "You know, I'm really tired." She looked at Miller, "So tired, actually. Failing can take the _oomph_ right out of your energy…" She did not walk towards her quarters, just away from Bellamy. She could not deal with his questions because she would be tempted to give him answers she didn't know how to form. She didn't know how to ask him to join her fight—she didn't know how to ask anyone, actually.

Did that make her a _neighbor_, too?

She found herself walking into the guard tent, getting eyes from most of the younger guards on the afternoon shift. "Ollie," She breathed with a fake, charming smile. "Can I speak to you outside?" Oliver Moss was nineteen and undeniably handsome. He had dark brown hair, cut short as a requirement for the guard. His jaw was angular, strong every time he clenched his teeth. His brown orbs were warming and often playfully undressing her. Even though it was evident he had feelings for her, she did not return them. The aspects of her romantic life revolved around Bellamy—no one else.

Oliver smirked as he followed her outside, "I heard you didn't catch anything."

Clarke snorted, "I heard you were in trouble for acting ridiculous…" Ollie shrugged, leaning forward for a kiss. She turned her head and he laughed at her rejection. "One day you're going to stop treating me like your girlfriend in front of your friends."

"One day you're going to agree to be my girlfriend." Ollie laughed, "I'm just counting down the days…" Bellamy did not like Oliver because he was arrogant, overly confident and "untrustworthy." He continued to laugh as Clarke glanced around them. "So, why are you here princess?"

"Don't call me princess, Oliver." Clarke said, "You don't have the right."

He wrinkled his nose for a moment, "That dick Bellamy calls you princess."

"Bellamy's not a d—" Clarke stopped talking because she didn't feel like lying anymore. Bellamy was—is—a dick. It's part of his personality. She sighed before she started lying again, "He and I are partners."

"You_ were_ partners."

She shook her head and embarked on the real reason she was with him constantly, "How was work?"

"Changing the subject as usual." Oliver started, "Kane keeps telling us to train and train and train…more than usual, actually."

Clarke viewed Ollie as a friend, sure…but he was also her informant even if he didn't know it. "Do you want to grab something to eat?"

"That would be nice." He smirked, "Are we going to sit with your friends? Monty and Harper seem to be heating up…and that Jasper guy drools over Bellamy's sister while with Maya. It's truly complicated." Oliver enjoyed Clarke's friends to an extent but he would prefer to be alone with her. "Speaking of Bellamy—"

"That's twice in two minutes." Clarke commented with raised eyebrows, "New record."

Oliver frowned as they walked towards the tables, grabbing ration bags as they settled. "Kane's a dick too."

"Kane is…complicated." Clarke exhaled, "We certainly have a history, that's for sure. He was the one who got me arrested in the first place but he's had his moments on Earth." Her feelings were truly complicated when it came to Kane. While they were fighting the Mountain Men, she viewed him as a shaky ally. These days, he was a war-machine, rambling about survival of the fittest. He was no longer an ally—he was the enemy but she had to _pretend _to be friendly so people did not get curious.

He only nodded, eating the food quickly. "Where are your friends?"

Clarke lifted her shoulders, "I don't know."

"You should eat."

"I've been in the sun all day. I'm not exactly starving." Clarke shoved the rations towards him. "Carla is looking at you again."

"Jealous?"

"Never."

He rolled his eyes, "Carla isn't my type." Clarke seriously doubted that. She was busty, beautiful and blonde. Sure, she was dumb as a box of rocks but she could satisfy Oliver if he gave her a chance. It killed her that he wasn't getting the point. She. Did. Not. Want. Him. "Oh, you're other boyfriend is walking over here."

She narrowed her eyes, "He wouldn't be my _other _boyfriend, he would be my _only _boyfriend." She realized as the words came out her mouth that it was the first time she'd ever said anything close to a confession of their after-dark relationship. She turned her head away from Oliver to address Bellamy.

"Get lost Moss."

"Why?" Oliver asked, mouth filled with food. "We're clearly on a date."

"We're not." Clarke corrected him.

"I know, princess." Bellamy's smug smirk made her heart quicken. "Monty thinks he broke his hand. He needs you."

"Oh." She said, standing up as fast as she could. "I'm sorry Ollie—it's Monty." Bellamy studied her face, continuing to smirk as they started speed walking. Clarke knew he was lying to get her alone. Ollie didn't do broken bones or blood. The leader in Bellamy recognized his weakness and took advantage of it. She walked in the direction of Bellamy's room, a smile on her lips. Once they moved through his door—she was his and only _his. _His lips connected with hers and she tried to move back but he pressed a hard hand to her back to keep her upright. "We need to talk."

"Dammit, Bellamy."

He moved his face away from hers briefly, "Be honest with me, Clarke. I need you to be honest with me." A hand ran down her face, his finger nail grazing her cheek for a moment.

She was not one to beg, but a plea fell from her lips. "Don't ruin this."

**(A/N: Ollie looks like Steven R. McQueen . Jeremy Gilbert)**

**REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

_The soft pads of her fingers traced the faded black mask drawn across her electric eyes as she surveyed her reflection in the murky green water. Am I a grounder? She thought hesitantly as the war paint smeared under her fingers. Her hand pulled away from her face in time for the water to flicker. Suddenly, she was staring at someone she did not recognized—a face that she used to be familiar with…a face that did not know the impact of a fist could leave a mesmerizing bruise. "Who am I?" The voice asking the question was hers, yes, but it was also the voice of a stranger. She was neither a warrior nor an innocent. _

"It's time to act…"

"It's time to save your people…"

"It's time…"

"It's time—it's time—it's time."

_A thousand voices overwhelmed her, each sounded like a ghost of her past. _

_A burning stain of black cut across her cheek as she watched her reflection frequently flicker in the water until she was only a blur between a grounder and an ark person. "Who am I?" She cried, the black tear hitting the water and turning the entire pool red._

_Blood red. _

-100-

The red blanket flew from her bare skin, falling on the floor without a sound. She gasped when she felt the weight of him lingering over her. "You okay, princess?" She could not see anything but the silhouette of his stark nakedness. Her hand ran down the ripples of his skin, gaining a soft groan from him in response. "Clarke." He said when her hand move to his lower regions, "You constantly do this…cover up your pain with sex. It's not healthy—it's not right."

"Don't tell me what's right and what's wrong, Bellamy. I can take care of myself." Her tone was harsh and caused him to roll off of her. He glared over at her and she stared straight forward. Why did he constantly have to do this? Why did _she _constantly have to do this? He wanted to push forward, she wanted to pull back. It was hardly fair that they kept playing this game with each other. She followed the direction of the blanket, moving towards the floor so she could gather her clothes.

"So, you're just going to leave?"

She shrugged, "I'm sure as hell not going to stay." Her eyes watched as her body transformed from vulnerable bareness to fully clothed and ready to leave him.

"I know, Clarke."

Her head rose, "What?" Her complexion was pale white and she felt cold. How did he know? There was no way that he could _know. _Was she being obvious? Were the convert actions and plans not good enough? Her head tried to calculate every single moment that she could have let on about her alliance with Lexa.

"I know you don't want to extend our relationship because…are you with Oliver, Clarke? Are you with both of us?"

She exhaled, relieved on a level that Bellamy hadn't seen through her like glass. Her lips twitched for a millisecond before she raised her eyebrows to address his accusation. "I'm surprised you think I'm that type of girl."

"I don't know who you are anymore." Bellamy said as if the second their eyes met, he knew everything about her. "Let alone what type of girl you are." There was a pang of hurt from his words but there was also a level of understanding to why he said them. Her hand wrapped around the door handle as she attempted to exit again, "Clarke!" He called after her. She could hear the movement on his bed as he stood up, grabbing the blanket off the floor before turning her around and pining her to the door. "You make it so difficult to have a conversation, you know that?"

"I'm not with Ollie." She told him, "Not that it's from a lack of him trying…I just…my relationship with him…I…"

"It's on the tip of your tongue, Clarke. Tell me." His voice was so low, buzzing in her ear as his lips hovered half an inch away from her neck. "If you want me, tell me…"

"That's hardly fair."

He repeated, "If you want me, tell me…"

Clarke shook her head, "I don't want to hurt anyone, Bellamy and I know that I'm going to hurt people if I even say it out loud." He pushed into her, rubbing his hard bulge against her thigh. He kicked her left foot to the side to grind into her. "Bellamy…I can say no to sex. I'm not a hormonal pool just because you're all up on me." He brought his lips to her neck, sucking hard. "Don't leave a mark on my neck. You know the rules."

He didn't stop. She placed a hand against his pants before turning them, slamming him into the door. "Fuck." He groaned before he remembered what he was trying to do. "Why can't you just tell me, Clarke? Trust me."

"Like you trust me?" She snorted, "You just accused me of cheating on you."

"I think we would have to be in a relationship for you to cheat on me." Her face turned red as he looked at her with dark, seductive eyes. He grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair, tugging lightly so she would look at him. "I trust you with my life, princess…I trust you with my everything." He was being sincere and her heart started to beat irregularly.

"I can't…" She wanted him to move out of the way so she could leave. He was refusing to move until he was given the answer that he wanted. It crossed her mind that he knew he would end up, back against the door somehow.

_Embrace your birthright and do not waste time on doubt… _

_Can I trust Bellamy?_

_Yes._

"I'm starting a war, Bellamy."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

It was the worst fight they'd been in since…

Since…

Charlotte.

Bellamy punched the side of his wall until his knuckles were raw before he turned back to Clarke, the bloody cracks across his skin being the first thing she noticed. She imagined he wanted to do that to her, but swallowed back her thought. He wanted to relentlessly jab her with his capable fists until she recanted her previous statement—obviously, she hadn't swallowed hard enough because the thought persisted.

_Let him hit me. _

Little did he know, she survived grounder training and his rage was no match for the violence of a man who lost his wife and his son to Finn and declared he wanted nothing more than to beat the hell out of a sky-person. There was a lot Bellamy didn't know about her life but that's because they'd been operating as separate people for too long. He was taking _it _the way he did on the Ark—falling right back into their caste system and she was _not. _Monty and Jasper and anyone else she cared about could assimilate for their entire lives…but there would not be one pitiful look casted her way that could change her mind.

There was not a single soft touch.

Or intimate position.

Nor the most passionate kiss in the entire world that could change her mind.

_That's _the reason Bellamy happened to be glaring daggers at her head and swearing like Raven when she slammed her toe into the metal drawer last week. "You never learn your lesson, Clarke! The grounders aren't your concern…they've _never _been your concern. Lexa is _using _you."

Hurt, Clarke drove her own dagger into his shoulder, ripping down his skin with every word that darted from her lips. "Lexa's _using_ me?"

"I hope you're not implying that I use you, your majesty because last time I checked you're the one crawling into my bed! You c_ome to _me!"

She gritted her teeth before she replied, "Lexa is a friend and what Kane is doing is _wrong. _This egotistical mission to claim their land and enslave their people is…it's not even human. You're not a murderer, Bellamy. Don't sentence these people to death because you're angry."

"They were going to leave _you_ to die." He reminded her, "I watched Lexa look you in the eye and tell you that she had to save herself and then she turned to me and said that I should follow. She was going to leave you to die and now you're her bitch. You. Are. Lexa's. Bitch." He shook his head, raising his hands in the air as he started going off once more. "I won't let you bring our people down with you because of this fantasy in your head where everyone takes each other's hands around the goddamn fire so they can sing happy songs! I won't allow it! You aren't fighting with her, you're going to stick with your fucking people and you're going to stop seeing her!"

Her mouth fell open, "I'd rather be her bitch instead of yours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dammit!" Clarke yelled, "I need you, Bellamy. I need you to say that you're _with _me! We could be free…our people could be free."

"We are free!" He roared, "As free as the planet is going to allow us to be! Your idea of freedom is highly deluded, Clarke. It's romanticized, just like Fi—"

The sound of his wooden chair slamming against the wall by his head cut him off. He ducked at the sound of impact and turned to her with wide eyes. "You will not talk about Finn." She said in an eerily calm voice, "Not because you're scared and pissed off at me. You will not use him as a weapon."

"I'm not sc—"

"Then you're just like them." Clarke said, "If you're not scared—you're just like them and I want nothing to do with you. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to be unsure…just admit that it's the right thing to do and we can move forward together." She realized she was begging him to listen to her. She didn't want to be weak in front of him but if weakness was the only defense she had left…she would use it. "When I close my eyes all I can see are the children…the innocent children been slaughtered or captured because Kane is medieval. Babies, too, being ripped away from their mothers like that. It's sickening. Put your feelings aside about Lexa and tell me if _that's _right."

He hesitated.

"If I were pregnant with your child right now, Bellamy, would you let me fall victim to war or would you want the grounders to make the _right _choice?" He seemed to be thinking about it and that's all Clarke wanted in that moment—she just needed him to think it over. She moved to sit but remembered she tossed the chair she favored. _Shit. _

She crossed her arms over her stomach, remembering she hadn't eaten in a long time. It probably wasn't the best time to leave him alone… She sighed heavily but her sigh soon turned into a yawn. "Just for the record…" Bellamy said in his deep-in-thought voice, "You wouldn't happen to be pregnant, right? This isn't your way of dropping hints?"

"What?"

"You aren't pregnant, right?" He asked, his eyes grazing over her skin.

She narrowed her eyes at him and hesitated, "No."

"Well that sounded 100% confident, Clarke, thanks?" He put his face in his hands, "We've never talked about the possibility of you becoming pregnant…"

She shrugged, "I've had other things on my mind."

He snorted sarcastically, "Yeah I guess you have."

"And I don't really want to talk about it now, either. We're safe. Not as safe as birth control but we're careful." Clarke shook her head, "There's really no point in trying to procrastinate on the main subject…" She bit her lip, "We still have rules about marks…last thing I want is a baby. Especially now, but I guess once we settle on our—"

"On our?"

"I have to have some secrets, Bellamy."

_Like the fact that I know we aren't as careful as we should be and pregnancy is a very real possibility… holy shit, what if I'm pregnant? Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn… holy shit! What if I'm not pregnant but he wants a kid? What if he tries to knock me up? He's got a little bit of crazy in him… well, not that crazy I guess… _

_Holy shit. _

_What if I'm pregnant? _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The sun casted a light blue shadow on Earth and Clarke remained still against Bellamy's chest. _We are the most screwed up individuals on this planet… _She thought as she trailed a few kisses down his exposed skin—an action she only preformed during sex or leading up to sex. Her head rose, and tilted to the side as she realized she wasn't trying to be sexual, rather she was aiming to be affectionate. He released a small hum, his hand rubbing down her back as if he were trying to lull her back to sleep. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, proving that he was awake. She moved over him only to bury her head into his neck. He sighed, the angle of his jaw massaging her tangled mess of blonde waves as he continued to rub into her skin with his capable fingers.

Bellamy knew most of her plan and although his reaction was quite explosive, she could tell that he logically understood it and would join her. Despite his emotions for Lexa and her community, he knew the difference between right and wrong—there was still hope for their moral compasses after all. That made her smirk, the thought of their seemingly shattered moral compasses operating once more. For a girl—or woman now—who always carried a hint of a plan in her head, she did not have on for her personal relationship with Bellamy. If last night was any indication of their psyches, her hesitance could be understood. She was not scared of Bellamy…she hadn't been s_cared_ of him in a long time. Clarke was quite scared of herself.

The anger Clarke harvested for Camp Jaha and its current leaders settled into her heart, adding to the frozen black arteries and veins she'd compiled over her stay on Earth. There was blood up to her shoulders because of her _choices _and she couldn't wash it off—she couldn't stop the memories, or the nightmares, or even the hard exterior that protected her from deeper emotion from haunting her every day. What if Bellamy gave up on her? Not as a partner… but as a significant other? What if he wanted who she used to be, only to realize she could never be that girl again? Clarke wasn't the co-leader, medic with a trouble romantic life anymore. Her days weren't chaotic because teenagers were running around having sex and breaking their limbs...oh, how she missed the simplicity of the drop ship days…no, her days were covert missions and trying to gather as much information as possible while looking for a blissful way to release all the stress of her _life _and appear normal—appear content. Why? Because it was her unwavering _duty. _

Lexa was partly correct when she explained Clarke's birthright as a leader. She was born into status, which meant that there was a very real possibility that she could have been chancellor eventually. It was already decided she would be on the council the moment she was born due to her parent's position and even when the tables turned and she still had _power. _No matter what choices she made, her power—her hold remained and for a girl who recently turned eighteen, it seemed like too much. The irony of it all seemed to drown her when she inhaled Bellamy's scent. _I can't say I didn't ask for it or practically demand it. _

"You stayed." Bellamy said groggily, the hints of surprise not fully concealed by his deep morning voice. She closed her eyes tightly, not bothering to answer him because it was obvious she did stay and it was obvious he was happy with the improvement to their relationship. "And you're spooning, how strange…"

"Don't get used to it." She said in a sharp tone, "Last night…last night was out of control, Bellamy. That's not _us. _We don't get violent. We can't afford to be impulsive."

"I know." His hand slipped down her back, his cold fingers moving down her spine until she arched her back into him. "Mmm, princess…I'm sorry I acted that way." She remembered his knuckles, how they must sting at the moment.

"I'm sorry I threw a chair at you." She said sincerely, "I'm sorry I brought hypothetical children into the argument as well."

He shifted uncomfortably, "Are you sure…can you say without a doubt that there isn't a chance that you are pregnant?"

"Absolutely." She lied, "I am not pregnant."

It was somewhere between hour two of Bellamy's snoring and hour five that she came to the conclusion that she did not want to know until her plan was complete and they were settled into Watermelon Park. If she was pregnant, she couldn't be that far along and she would have _time. _If Bellamy even suspected she was pregnant, he would put a hold on their plan and demand things she didn't want to confront such as a _real _relationship and _official _titles and _marriage. _She did not have time to think of those things when thousands of people depended on her to rebel against Camp Jaha's leadership, weakening them so they couldn't attack the grounders. They would have to take their weapons, take some of the guard, and convince their people to follow them to a less comfortable place where they would have to build from the ground up.

She couldn't think the word _baby _until everything was finished.

Bellamy nodded his head, "That's good, considering…"

"Yeah." She managed, "Who should we start with first?"

His mind was somewhere else, so she repeated her question to get a distant, "Hmmm?" in response. She brought her head from his neck to meet his eyes, "Good morning to you, beautiful." He smirked cheekily before repeating his observation once more, "You stayed."

"I stayed." Her lips met his for a moment, the definition of a chaste kiss before she moved her head to rest under his chin. "Miller is still loyal to you."

"Business in bed, Princess? That's a bad habit."

"It takes 21 days to break a habit. How long do you think it will take us to break out of here?" She murmured, "Jasper and Monty will come. Octavia will come. Miller will most likely come. Ollie…dammit, I don't know about Ollie. We need him to come because he can influence some of his pompous jackass friends—"

"Talking about Oliver in bed…worse than talking about business."

"Can you please humor me and discuss this?"

She could feel him smirking, "Mmm, how the warrior-princess-with-the-commanding-attitude version of _you _makes me feel all tingly inside…" He cleared his throat, "Miller's anti-grounder, Clarke. He's a friend, he's loyal but I don't know if he'll follow me. I'm not exactly the leader they loved and feared anymore."

"Yes you are." Clarke said, "Just remind them."

"I'm sort of limited on my public service announcements and death threats. Kane will arrest me." He turned the idea around in his head. "I think we should start with the people who are loyal to _you. _Jasper, Monty, Raven and my own goddamn sister. Then, we'll move forward to the next group…Harper, Monroe, Miller, and _Oliver._" He frowned, Oliver's name hanging in the air. "Then, we look at the recent arrest logs and find the unhappy campers—but not the shady ones, Clarke. We may have been founded off of criminals but we aren't going to let murderers and rapists run free in our new life."

_Our. _

_I like that word. _

**REVIEW. **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The wind whipped through her hair as she held the gun in both hands. It was mid-afternoon and the guard lined the fence, preparing for another training session along with a few "civilians" that wished to learned how to shoot. Really, she didn't need to _pretend _she was incapable but she liked the way the gun fit in her hands and she liked having the power to use it. She heard the whispers behind her about her lack of aim. It took all she had to not let it get under her skin. _You're a bad shot, you're a bad shot, you're a bad shot…_

"…seriously, she knows she's going to miss…"

"…why are we even wasting bullets on this chick, I mean…"

"…Turner bet his entire month's rations with Harper that she would miss this shot, that dumbass girl swears to god Clarke won't…"

It was ultimately foolish but thinking about _Harper _made her feel slightly impulsive. How could they be so clueless? After everything she endured—how could they take advantage of her faith in Clarke? The fact Harper even had that type of faith in her…warmed her slightly because it meant _one more_ _follower. _She corrected her position to her normal shooting stance—one hand, arm extended because she liked looking like a bad ass—before she pulled the trigger.

_Bang._

_Bang. _

_Bang. _

She inhaled as she handed the gun back to the trainer, her hair still flying around her as her eyes settled on the gossipers behind her. They were shocked but not as shocked as the blonde standing in the corner. She smiled at Harper before walking over to her. "Hey, I hear you just one a bet."

Harper smirked, "Yeah…I knew you could shoot, Clarke. I saw you on the mountain when you shot that guard in the head…I just want to know why you've been pretending you _can't._" Clarke didn't know Harper was particularly observant until that moment. "I think you're planning something…you're always planning something." She remembered killing the guard—she also remembered thinking Harper was passed out on the ground in the abandoned hallway.

After a moment, Clarke returned her smirk, "Meet me at the fire tonight with Jasper, Monty, and Maya…okay?" Harper nodded slowly and went to turn away before the shooting practice was completed. "Harper?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't have to tell you that you can't tell anyone, right?"

She rolled her eyes softly, "We only have each other."

_Meanwhile…_

"You and—" Bellamy pointed a finger at Jasper and then at Monty from the opening of the tent. "you are both going to attend a little bonfire tonight. Got it?" He frowned at them but it only made Jasper and Monty smile—that is, until he cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. "I don't have time for questions, I have to go to target practice."

"Might want to keep to the left of Clarke…it's her day." Jasper snorted, "Did you know there are actual bets taking place on the fact that she will miss and by how much? Honestly, she's much more talented with a knife."

Bellamy glared at him before Monty elbowed Jasper in the ribs, mumbling "Finn" before running his hand across his neck to end the conversation.

"I-I didn't even…I wasn't even thinking about Finn." Jasper struggled before he sighed, "Does that make me a bad friend?"

"No." Bellamy answered before Monty did, "Guns are more effective. She needs to know how to use one or she'll be just as primitive as the grounders."

"Ahh, our old best friends." Jasper said sarcastically, "I still don't underst—"

He sighed heavily, "Save it for tonight, Jasper."

Monty nodded along, "So, our impromptu meeting is about the _grounders _then?"

"It's about a lot of things. Listen, Clarke will explain it tonight. Stop asking so many fucking questions and get back to whatever you two do in here." He looked around the array of wires and bolts mixed with bullets and cartridges. _This cannot be safe… _

Bellamy departed with a head nod, walking over to the guard with one hand in his pocket. He was thinking about the possible outcomes of her plan. There was a _good _and a _bad a_s well as a moderately _worse _set of outcomes as far as he was concerned.

Good; Clarke succeeds—_they_ succeed in aiding the grounders with the proper information and weakening the army of guards from the inside as well as Kane. Then, they successfully take their "followers" out of camp… he didn't know all the details of her master plan but he imagined it was well-thought-out and more elaborate than the basic one she supplied him with the night before.

Bad; They get caught, they get put on trial and possibly sentenced to death and their followers disperse. The grounders are captured, wounded and enslaved. No one tries to rebel again for decades because that's how _history _is made.

Worse; They don't get caught but the plan still fails and Clarke tears herself apart over their loss. He was biased when he said this option was the worst outcome because he cared for Clarke. He might even love her and the thought of her closing down for good terrified him. She could already balance a secret espionage-soaked agenda with most of her emotions intact such as anger, hatred, fear, compassion, and his personal favorite—lust…and maybe even love because it takes a certain level of _love _to perform such tasks whether it be love for humanity, for the grounders, or for her people…there was a level of love. But what happens when there isn't any ounce of those emotions? What happens when she goes numb? She could seriously hurt someone or even herself…

He was clearly late because there were three perfect shots in the center of the target. Bellamy stepped next to Miller, "That's impressive. Which three assholes did that?"

Miller snorted, clearly amused. "Clarke. All three."

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, "Really?" He couldn't deny that he was somewhat _proud _of her and slightly aroused by the thought that Clarke managed those shots. It reminded him of the "glory days" as Monty referred to them when he was beyond drunk where he attempted to show her how to shoot. My, how she'd improved.

Nathan Miller looked over at his friend, "She did it for Harper."

"What?"

"That jackass up there called Harper a dumbass girl and Clarke sort of lost it." Miller said, "Is it me or has she been on edge?"

"Clarke's always on edge. Always serious." _Until you're kissing up her stomach then she's fucking giggling like a little girl… _

Miller shook his head, "No, there's something different about this _vibe… _it's like I should sleep with a gun under my pillow because something's coming."

Bellamy remained silent.

"You know something about it." Miller observed, "You and Clarke on edge, Clarke suddenly has perfect aim…I don't think anyone else would notice if I didn't know you two so well but if you two are planning something remotely dangerous—be c_areful._" He dropped his voice to a whisper, "And whatever it is…I got your back."

"Whatever it is?" Bellamy sighed, "Don't make promises you aren't prepared to keep."

"I don't have to like your orders, man. I just have to follow them. You're still in charge…_both of you _are still in charge to a lot of us." He stepped closer, "Rebellion, right? That's what you're planning. You're tired of the shit jobs and the lousy political choices and you're taking back what belongs to you?"

He shifted his weight, "We're having a meeting tonight, Miller. As far as I know it's just Jasper and Monty so far…Octavia might attend if I can find her. You know how she is—she hates it here…but come to the meeting a make your own choice before you follow me blindly."

"Where are you going? You haven't picked up a gun yet…Oliver's going to beat your average soon enough."

_Oliver. _

Bellamy thought of his name with such distaste. "Screw Oliver, he can have my average."

_I have his girl… _


	6. Chapter 6

"_I believe, I believe you could love me_

_But you're lost on a road to misery…"_

Chapter 6:

Merciless emotion flooded his every bone, every cell that marked his being as Bellamy fumbled through camp. He accepted the concept of the lieutenant kicking his ass for the lack of attendance, but he couldn't find it in his rumbling, thumping heart to change his path and retreat back to practice. He had to see her_—he had to feel her—_in all of her badass glory. He had to run his hands through her barely manageable waves, taste her on his fingertips, bask in their promiscuity for a moment before he turned back to the below-average lifestyle he could no longer accept. In truth, he recognized this moment, the one he was desperately searching for, would be one of the few _good _memories during their rebellion. So sue him for wanted to be enwrapped in her luscious skin in that very second. There were fears in his chest, building and building as he took long strides, searching every direction. The fear whispered seductively, _"Stop this now and live in this camp. It's only going to get harder."_

It wasn't just him anymore—he wasn't just making executive decisions for _him. _If he somehow talked Clarke down from the tall ledge she'd climbed indefinitely, he would be sentencing thousands of innocents to death and Clarke would _never _forgive him. He would _never love _him. He was sure he wanted her to love him—or maybe he was completely sure that he did and would never admit it, even to himself.

His eyes fell over multiple tents and the construction of huts, lavishing in the details of the entire camp without seeing her blonde hair in the crowd once. _What if she's looking for me? Maybe I should just stand still. _

_Why the fuck would she be looking for me?_

He ran a flustered hand through his hair while he glared at a few of the "delinquents" he formerly ordered around. He tried to remember their crimes—hell, he was struggling to remember their names but they knew what she looked like…they would be watching for her, right? Watching her like he watched her…no, hell no. They better not be watching her like he watches her.

_Get it together, idiot. _

_Am I screwing up this entire thing? _

_Maybe Clarke's better off without me…_

_She doesn't really need me…she's been doing it by herself for weeks… _

Bellamy walked over to the group, released a breath before asking, "Have any of you seen Clarke?"

_Meanwhile…_

Her feet shuffled across the dusty tan dirt, unware that she was being stalked like prey. She was thinking about the way the gun felt in her palm, how pulling the trigger reminded her of her _real _training with Lexa. In retrospect, she should have been paying attention to her surroundings. Her body temperature fluctuated as freezing water touched her scalp, skimming down her temples until it slid into her shirt. She felt it on her lips, dripping repeatedly as the wind touched her skin once more.

The wonderful person who so graciously decided she needed to cool down let out a sing-song laughter. Clarke used her thumbs to wipe the droplets from her eyelids, belting out a reasonable squeal, "Octavia!"

The girlish giggled continued as Clarke attempted to wring out her shirt. "Catch me if you can!"

Her loud departing footsteps made Clarke smirk, "Oh, I'll catch you." It wasn't often that Clarke could act like a child. Her laughter mimicked Octavia's as she watched Octavia peek over her shoulder. They were both capable fighters, if this was at _all _real they might actually share an interesting duel. Clarke reminded herself repeatedly that it was supposed to be _fun. _"You should surrender!" Clarke claimed, knowing very well that Octavia would never surrender. Grounders don't surrender even if their status had been ripped away in the middle of the night.

Octavia was smug, much like her brother. She was unaware of Clarke's rigorous training, she had no knowledge of the things Clarke had seen while training, either. It was why Clarke eventually caught up to her, tackling her to the ground with a precious yelp. They rolled around, playfully grabbing at each other's hair. They were suddenly involved in a dirt and water mixture. It appeared as if they were fighting pretty adamantly—this she realized when a rough hand landed on her shoulder, yanking her backwards onto her ass.

Clarke narrowed her eyes as Octavia threw her head back into a laugh in which she used her whole body, "Whatever she did, I'm sure it's not worth Bellamy's revenge!" Raven yelled over Octavia's laughter before she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. The three of them exchanged looks until Raven spoke up once more, "You two were _playing_?"

Clarke shrugged and smiled, "I guess so. Although, I kicked Octavia's ass just now."

"Interesting." Raven looked as if she wanted to have fun, too. Clarke wanted her to have good memories with both of them, rather than the horrible ones that haunted each of their souls. Clarke wondered if Raven would leave this Camp behind with them. Raven hated the grounders. She hardly liked Clarke. But, if they wanted to survive they needed someone like Raven on their side. _ And what happens if you don't come? _Clarke thought as she watched Raven crack a half-smile. Raven noticed Clarke's stare, "What?"

_This is a risk…_

_Don't let doubt ruin this._

_Can you trust Raven?_

_Will she sentenced her _friends _to death? _

_Will she waste away here, haunted by the memory of Finn for the rest of her life?_

"We're having a bonfire meeting tonight." She started speaking, no fear—no hesitance—full and utter trust. "Bellamy and I have made the decision to have a meeting tonight and I want you there." _I need you there. _Raven was extremely smart, she would recognize the flaws in their plan and bring them to light. "Of course you can make your own decisions, it's not required of you but I would _like _you to be there."

"Am I invited?" Octavia interrupted before Raven could respond. Her hair floated in the wind, her lips parted in excitement. It'd been too long since they did something as a unit. "Since when are you and Bellamy making any type of choices?" Clarke expected questions like this from her friend. She liked these types of questions because it meant that she was keeping her secret.

"Of course you're invited."

"I'll be there." Raven agreed, biting her lip before she actually said anything. "It's clearly important if you and Bellamy are promoting it. Who else is invited?"

"Uh, well Bellamy's supposed to invite Jasper and Monty. I invited Harper earlier and now the both of you…" Clarke said quickly as the wind whipped around her body again, sending a reminder to her that she was soaking wet. She wondered if they could manage winter in Watermelon Park and if she was moving too fast…

_Kane isn't slowing down._

_You can't either because you're a little cold. Think about the bab—_

_No._

_Nope._

_No, no, no… _

**-100-**

Her creamy skin was coated in a thin layer of mud and light brown dust but she still looked attractive. He knew of her soft curving flesh, the feel of her when she became warm as honey beneath his touch. There was a heated gleam in her blue eyes as she eyed him from her stance in front of Raven and Octavia. She said something he couldn't hear when she left the two girls, her moist waves bouncing as she walked over to him. "Hey…" She addressed him with pursed lips, hints of a smile on her features but not a full one. "So, your sister dumped a bucket of water on me."

"I think you're deluded if you believe _that's_ water. That's mud, Clarke."

"Well, I had to avenge my dignity, didn't I?" She cracked a rare public smile—not that she didn't smile in public, she just never smiled like _that _in public. "Raven's coming tonight."

"Miller's coming tonight."

"So is Harper." Clarke said, "You talk to Jasper and Monty?"

He nodded, "Yeah…I talked to them." His eyes followed the way she walked, the sway of her hips and the curve of her ass until she abruptly—abruptly to him— stopped in front of the washing station. She turned around and smirked. He recognized the non-subtle curve of the left side of her mouth, it whispered tenderly "_Come and get me…" _while simultaneously saying,_ "…if you dare."_ He always _dared _to indulge himself in her sweet, sweet body. "What?" He questioned her knowingly, matching her smirk as her thin fingers wrapped around his wrist, "Tell me what you want, Princess…"

"Mmm, I want to take a shower with you…that's what." She tugged his hand gently, moving him through the metal building with a certain pep in her step. Her hands hit the dark red colored stall doors, checking to see if anyone hid from their loud footsteps. Eventually, she pulled him into the last of six stalls, her hand hitting the locking mechanism with an enthusiastic _click. _

Their boots moved across the metal floors while Bellamy wondered which section of the Ark supplied the well-crafted drainage area. "Do you think we'll be able to rebuild this?" He asked dumbly, his eyes flickering up to meet hers after her response failed to grace his ears. "What if we can't give them the luxuries we have here?" _When did bathing become a luxury? _There was an instant of intense consideration before she was pushing into his body with every ounce of her available force.

She mumbled in a barely audible husky voice, "Just _shut up._"

He complied, his hands fumbling for every zipper and worn button on her clothing. He sighed in frustration, "Fuck Clarke…just take off your clothes."

"Always the romantic, truly."

Bellamy snorted, "I didn't know I was required to be romantic." He watched as she casted her jacket over the door, letting it plop to the ground in a mess of loud jingling along with her shirt—then her jeans, then her bra, then her underwear until she was completely and totally bare before him. "You know you're beautiful, right?"

"Only in your eyes."

He frowned, "Not only in my eyes, Clarke…"

"Still trying to figure out why you're dressed." The faint blush on her cheeks did not go unnoticed, but it did go unmentioned. He complied with her eyes, aware that they were undressing him faster than he could unbuckle his pants. He was starting to realize her change in behavior, all the while thinking she was growing comfortable with him as she made better eye contact or undressed herself boldly in front of him, unbeknownst to him that she was actually transforming into the strongest woman he knew and would ever know. Suddenly, she could wield a weapon with a bat of a lash…and move her entire form in stealth confidence. It was exhilaratingly arousing to apperceive these improvements.

Despite being partly naked, he grinned. "Turn around, Princess…"

"Shy?"

"You're going to wish I was _shy._"

Intrigued, she followed his directions, mocking him as she held her hands up in defense and turned. His eyes scanned her shoulders, falling down her back until he was looking at her bent knee. "I can feel you ogling me." Her head turned over her shoulder, analyzing him with hooded eyes. Her lips were parted in the only ways that truly mattered to him; shock, anticipation and desire. Once fully undressed, he sauntered over to her, digging his fingers into her hips and pushing her roughly (but not enough to _hurt _her) into the wall—her hand coming up to catch her impact, just to hit the button that delivered water to the stall with a shaky hand. Her head tilted upward, her face becoming victim to a thousand or so droplets of ice cold water. He trailed hot fingers down the center of her stomach, eliciting a soft moan from her. "This is different…"

Eyes are said to be the portal of the souls—lips, then, are the mirrors. His lips were like two swollen plums, moving over her glistening ivory skin, suckling the water from her shoulders and her back while gently massaging her hip bone. The shower poured over her, washing away the dirt she accumulated during her day. With a peaceful sigh, she relaxed into Bellamy's hard chest, getting caught up in the nature of their intimate moment rather than the animalistic _need _that spread to their curling toes and electric fingertips. She could simply tell him, _"I want you" _in her seductive, feathery voice but what was the point of saying something he already knew?

He cupped her right breast, moving her until his knuckles grazed the metal. She tried to turn around but his hand wrapped around her wrists, throwing them above her head in a tight grasp. There was a growl building up in his chest, "You're going to wish I was shy…" He repeated, his steely contours against her tightened form.

She glanced back at him, the heated blush on her cheeks highlighting her darkened, wet hair. "You promise?"

His swollen flesh, hard and throbbing against her wasn't the only evidence of his arousal. She could see the dilation in his eyes, hear the change in his breathing and feeling the pre-neediness of his touch. He smirked, "Promise."

Bellamy filled her completely, joining their bodies together with a slow, almost tantalizingly so, motion. All his wanting became reality as a harsh and uneven gasp broke from her. He drug his tongue along the side of her neck as he continued to hold her hands above her. He noticed how she rested her pretty little forehead against the wall, taking him over and over with those shallow pants. Movement was hypnotic; a rhythmic melody of whispers and moans complemented by slamming thrusts.

And as amazing as it felt—and as amazing as it _was_, the sound of yelling about fifty feet from the station caused them to break away quickly. "Fuck." Bellamy groaned and Clarke had to bite back a laugh, _it's inappropriate to laugh about the possibility of being caught. _It was unlike her to take their relationship farther than his quarters, it was even more unlike her to pull his face to hers and kiss him without the intentions of finishing what she started. It was a _sweet _goodbye kiss, a sign of remorse for his current state but also a promise for a continuance following the rest of their duties. "Clarke?"

"Hmm?" She asked as she shimmied into her jeans, annoyed that the fabric was sticking to her wet skin. She separated their clothes that laid outside the stall, attempting to see if anyone had walked in to see if the place was occupied. They were ultimately lucky but they weren't going to push it.

"Do you even like me?" The question caused her to bite her lip _hard. _Bellamy straightened his shoulders and looked down at his feet, "Oh."

"You're misreading me." Clarke informed him, "I adore you, Bellamy…not abhor. I _like _you but that's not what you were asking me."

He smirked, "Then what was I asking you, Miss Know-it-all?"

She opened her mouth to answer, cut off by another chorus of frantic hollering. "I need to get out there, someone could be hurt."

Her thoughts answered her question, though:

_You were asking me if I love you… _

* * *

**_Reviews tell me what stories I should update and which stories I should drop. So, tell me your opinions on Chapter 6 (or any other chapter) THANKS! _**

**_-Brooke _**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

The ends of his fingertips pressed lightly into the small of her back, slowly climbing her skin in a soothing manner. Her eyes followed the quiver of the flame, hoping her bottom lip was not mimicking its actions. Light blue, marvelous in all its glory, flooded the evening sky as the day closed. She absentmindedly picked at the dried blood on her palms, her thoughts unfocused on the task at hand. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to raise her head and look at the only three people (so far) in attendance. Monty was watching her intently, sending her a smile when they met each other's eyes. Her thoughts were scrambled, her heart falling victim to a stress she hadn't accounted for. _What happened to the strong warrior? What happen to your confidence? _

Bellamy's continued to ease up her skin, following the curve of her spine. She was grateful their backs were facing the electric fence rather than the hefty flow of evening traffic around the mess hall. Clarke enjoyed his slow, burning touch. Her teeth started to slowly gyrate on her lip as her mind flew back to earlier.

_Do you love him?_

_Does he love me?_

_What the hell was he getting at, dammit? _

Clarke prided herself on knowing what Bellamy was thinking, having memorized every facial expression he could make as well as his various tones of voice he liked to display to people. She could distantly hear his groans and heavy breathing in her head. _Why am I even thinking about sex right now? _Annoyed, she rubbed her palms together. "Are you cold?" Bellamy asked, lowering his hand so her shirt covered more skin.

"No." She responded briskly, "I, uh, just…it's nothing."

He nodded his head, dropping it for the moment. She watched the side of his face, observing how he clenched his jaw and overall looked desperately desirable. She wanted to pull his jacket away from his neck and scatter kisses all along his skin. _Maybe tonight…_

Jasper broke her from her intense staring, "Where is everyone?" Clarke turned her head, raising her eyebrows at his voice.

"Hmm?" She asked, needing him to repeat the question.

"I said, where is everyone?" Jasper chuckled. She noticed that he was in a far better mood. Maya sat by his side, playing idly with the zipper on her jacket. Of course, Clarke should have accounted for Maya's presence. She didn't exactly get along with many of the adults, who still harvested bad feelings towards her former people. In a way, Maya was the "Octavia"—an outsider in love with the enemy. Odd enough, this time it worked in Jasper's favor.

Clarke snorted sarcastically, "That's what I would like to know…" She started to glance around for any sight of her friends but she caught someone else's brown eyes instead. Unfortunately, they weren't Bellamy's intoxicatingly warm orbs—ironic that she had that opinion about his eyes—they were her mother's eyes. She let out an uneven sigh, "We're being watched." It was the paranoia speaking, her mother was most likely staring (glaring) at her because of her proximity to Bellamy. She didn't understand their relationship but lucky for Clarke, she didn't have to understand—or know about how close they _really _happened to be.

Bellamy's throat vibrated as he grumbled, "Maybe we should have done this somewhere else." Clarke broke eye contact with her mother, turning to Bellamy with a smile. "What?"

"Start laughing." She commanded, casting her glance to her three friends as well as Bellamy. "If we look like we're up to something, she'll suspect and voice her concerns to Kane. Please, please, please just go along with it." Jasper and Monty attempted a fake laugh, "Laugh like you just found out Bellamy wet the bed until he was nine."

"Did you wet the bed until you were nine?" Jasper asked, raise eyebrow. Maya started to giggle, looking at her friend with the same curious expression. Their eyes were lightly touched by the humor in the air. She stole a glance Bellamy's way, catching his narrowed eyes along with the curve of his lip.

"Hell no." He responded, softly chuckling before he shifted his hand at the waist band of her pants. She wanted to dare him but Monty's genuine laughter caught her attention. He continued to laugh as Miller and Harper joined them, rambling on about guard practice. Bellamy rolled his eyes as he watched Harper kiss the side of Monty's cheek. Clarke let her thoughts drift off once more…

_Could that be me and him one day? Instead of secretly getting felt up at one of the most inappropriate times…please, pretend that you care that he's touching you like this—I dare you. You love this shit…_

_Who the fuck am I?_

"Oh, look who decided to join us." Monty laughed, scooting down the log so Raven and Octavia could sit down. They tried to look like they were making light conversation, laughing as they put in their greetings and started in on the issue at hand.

Before she could start talking, Bellamy whispered, "They will listen to you, Clarke. You aren't wrong."

"I'm scared." She admitted as Octavia talked over the boys to Maya, smiles gracing her face in a joking matter.

"Me too." He told her, "Of everything that could happen…"

"For Octavia?"

"Yes, but for me…and _you." _

Clarke didn't want her eyes to show how much it meant to her, but she was betrayed in the process. "I can handle myself."

"You can show me tonight how you _handle _yourself." He waggled his eyebrow suggestively, his nail grazing the line of her jeans against her skin.

She snorted, "Who's deflecting now?"

He shrugged in response, finally turning his attention to their assembled group. He let out a heavy sigh, "As you know, Kane is moving forward with his plan to weaken the grounder army and capture the warriors as a way to prevent war. At least, that's the propaganda they've been shoving down our throats. In reality, they want to enslave the capable workers to make our growing community run more efficiently. Why would we need labor? Because we're a community of scientific nerds." Miller chuckled at the comment and Clarke realized it was specifically directed towards Nathan. Bellamy was trying to make him feel comfortable, trying to reel him in. "Our leaders, no offense princess, are privileged and don't understand the meaning of labor and unlike _you,_" He said to Clarke solely, "they don't have any willingness to work."

_Don't focus too much on me…_

He cleared his throat and continued, "I don't have to explain how this is unsettling—enslaving innocent people that haven't declared war on us despite our leaders graciously breaking a treaty with people that have survived on Earth for nearly 100 years." He let the fact sink in, watching how people reacted. Clarke observed a certain agreement.

She picked up where he left off, "I'm not willing to sit back and watch innocent people be slaughtered in the name of laziness and bullheadedness. I hope you guys aren't, either. Before you think we're solely siding with the grounders, understand that we're also unsatisfied with our lack of representation and the frequent demotions. We're also tired of the discrimination between criminals versus people who have committed multiple murders and falsely oppressed people in the name of survival."

"Rebellion." Monty summed up with one word, a slow nod as he looked at Jasper. "I want in."

"Me too." Jasper agreed instantly, "The grounders helped save our lives. You both saved our lives. I couldn't sit idly by while you started a rebellion."

Maya nodded her head in agreement, "You are my people—not the leaders of this community."

Bellamy's eyes fell on Miller, "I told you I had your back. What happens after we rebel? How are we going to rebel?"

"The goal is to weaken this place long enough so Lexa can build up her defenses and recover." Clarke said, "Then, we take the people that are willing to go with us to the land Lexa reserved for us. We can prosper away from this place. We can live good lives but that doesn't mean there won't be a struggle. Its new land but we managed the first few weeks and if it wasn't for us, this camp wouldn't still be standing." Clarke replied, "I would honestly like for everyone to _think _on this before committing to this. It won't be as easy. It won't be as simple as walking out the front gate, either."

Raven cleared her throat, "Will we be free?"

"We would have to have an organized government." Clarke said, "But you would be free to make your own choices with few limitations. Everyone here has our trust—has our support no matter what choice they make but please, consider it. Think it over."

"I'm in." Jasper said, "My opinion won't change."

"Me too." Monty smiled as he talked, "You're _stuck _with me."

"As well as me…" Maya whispered quietly.

Miller nodded his head in silent agreement.

"I'm also in." Harper met Clarke's eyes and smiled, "I knew you would save us."

"Do you even have to ask?" Octavia said, "I can't wait to tell Lincoln."

Raven was the only person who hadn't specifically said where she stood. She opened her mouth and let out a strangled sound before nodding her head, "I hate those grounder bastards, no offense." She glanced over at Octavia, "But I know the difference between right and wrong. I'm in."

They parted after staging friendly banter and multiple jokes. They were making sure people viewed them as teenagers rather than former members of a stable reign. Monty offered Clarke moonshine and she turned him down, "Thanks though…"

"What have you done? Given up drinking….that's no way to live!"

Clarke shrugged, "Just making sure I'm healthy."

_And not harming my possible child… _

She did not risk a glance at Bellamy but she noticed his hand still for a moment. He was analyzing the situation and she didn't need that. "I read somewhere that drinking too much causes liver problems. I'm sure guzzling something comparable to gasoline every night is not healthy." Monty nodded in agreement with her statement.

The sky darkened and everything seemed to be setting perfectly in place. Monty and Harper were the first to leave, then Jasper and Maya followed by Octavia and Raven. Miller lingered for a moment, talking to Bellamy. Clarke urged him to go somewhere else in her mind but he didn't notice her desperate looks. Every time she attempted to leave, Bellamy would dig his nails softly into her skin.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Miller said as a parting, nodding to Clarke as he left.

Bellamy smirked, "Let's go to bed."

They stood up together, eyes moving across the camp to see if they were being watched. She didn't see her mother or Kane. He started walking towards his room but she grabbed his hand with an arched eyebrow, "Let's go to my room, tonight."

"I've never been to your room before." He grinned, "Why the sudden change, Princess?"

She returned his grin, "Maybe it's time to try new things."

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Soft, dim light encouraged shadows across her welded metal walls. Their sweat covered bodies were mere silhouettes. His rough thumbs pressed heavily into her hip bones, prompting her to release a punctuated gasp as she sank down on him. He marveled up at her, entranced by her eagerness to take his full length. "Clarke…" He groaned as she slowly and provocatively rotated her hips, her breath catching in her throat each time her inner thighs collided with his hip bones. He swept back her hair, tossing it over her shoulder as she arched her back. "Mmmmm…Princess, _fuck me_." Her ragged gasp when he pushed deeper into her, holding her body down on him for nearly a minute, drove him absolutely insane.

He sat up, moving her legs so they circled around his back. She could feel his heartbeat against her, nearly in time with her own erratic thumps. His tongue slipped through her lips, dancing with her own as he sent scorching hot caresses down her welcoming skin. In their secluded moments, she felt so safe—like there was nothing wrong in the world…like there wasn't a world outside of their intimate embraces. A low moan escaped her lips as he started to control the rhythm of their motions. Her body kept responding, so very hungry for more. She may have been in control at first, but he was quickly pulling back _his_.

_Does he love me?_

Her animalistic lust betrayed her desire for rational thought. She was being hypnotized by his throaty groans. His forehead was pressed against her shoulder as he moved his hips upward to meet her experimental pace. "Bellamy…" Her head fell back into his sweaty palm, his other hand on her side. She moaned his name again, her body so calm but so inflamed. She could tell by the layers of hot, moist kisses that he was deeply satisfied with her movements. "Please Bellamy." She begged in her best seductive purr, receiving a chuckle in response and the familiar sensation of a mattress against her back. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he increased the tempo, her body arching and writhing in such blissful torment. He was pounding into her with a fierce paroxysm, unmeasurable and untamable.

It was so slow as if they had forever…

But it was also too fast of a moment, passing before she wanted to face their troubled reality.

She did not want to think about the problems she faced—they faced. She did not want to think about Lexa. She did not want to think about Watermelon Park. She did not want to think about the possibility of a baby. She only wanted to think about her yearn to experience that wave that rush of earth shattering euphoria. She knew she was being reckless—they were both being oh so reckless. He should have pulled out by now, spared the possibility of getting her pregnant but he was always impulsive, always _daring _himself to push farther and longer. That's how they were put into such a complicated situation in the first place—her inability to stop, his pride in his stamina. Darkly, she thought that he might as well finish the way he desired because she was probably knocked up already.

Her breathing started to pick up when Bellamy increased his speed, thrusting so _hard _that she wanted to scream in pleasure. His name rested on the tip of her tongue, her agonized gasps serving as a plea to him. Eyes tightly closed as she shuddered underneath his weight, her heel digging into his back as she sucked in short breaths, spasms of delight rocketing through her. "Fuck." Bellamy groaned before pulling out, abandoning himself to pleasure and leaving evidence of said pleasure on her thigh. He collapsed beside her, looking up at the ceiling of her room. "You drew all of those maps." He smiled softly, pointing to the multiple images hanging above her bed.

Clarke reached over her bed, knowing she would have to clean her sheets after their night. She was used to throwing Bellamy's into the laundry bin because he was too lazy, or too indifferent to do it himself. It struck her differently knowing that she'd never had sex with anyone but herself in her bed. She moved a torn rag across her thigh until she was clean. She passed him the rag, mumbling something about cleanliness.

"Yeah…I like to know where I'm going." She finally responded to his statement. He extended his arms to her, telling her to move into him. Her cheek laid on his hard chest, moving with his rough breathing. "I don't feel like discussing artistic ability. The meeting went well, Bellamy. I have this sense of hope…"

"Me too." He inhaled and promptly exhaled with a loud sigh before he tightened his arms around her back. "I'm not going to push you farther than necessary, I know you're trying in your own Clarke way…" His fingers played with her hair, "But one day we're going to have to talk about the status of our relationship."

"I know."

_I don't know if there's a word to describe how I feel about you… _

_I don't know how I feel about you… _

_I don't know where this is going…_

_I just don't want it to ever end. _

It was a completely foreign emotion pulsing through her bones. There wasn't a word in the entire English language that could explain how she felt about Bellamy Blake. She couldn't afford to be weak, though. She couldn't afford to get lost in romance and official relationships.

_What happened to just needing sex rather than needing each other?_

_And what if I'm pregnant?_

_How are we going to handle that?_

"Goodnight, Princess."

"Goodnight, Bellamy."

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	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Clarke's body was throbbing, and the memories of the night before were replaying in her head as she stretched out an experimental hand towards him. "Bellamy?" She stopped when her fingers gripped the opposite edge of the mattress, lifting her head to see that was she alone. _He left? _She furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if she'd completely misread everything he'd been saying over the last few days. What if, instead of pushing forward in their relationship, he was trying to end it?

Her thoughts were cut off by an odd taste in her mouth.

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to will it away but instead she gagged.

Nearly leaping over her mattress, Clarke grabbed the trash can by her makeshift desk and started to throw up repeatedly. She wanted to say the tears in her eyes were from the force in which she expelled everything she'd eaten, or thought of eating, over the last week but the fear in her heart told her differently.

_There are plenty of explanations for this…_

_Bad meat._

_Yes, I've seen how they handle their kills. They're incompetent. _

_And then, I could have a bug…_

_But that would make me patient zero because there haven't been any reports… _

_Of course, my time in the medical wing yesterday wasn't exactly full of research… _

Her forehead rested against the bin until she sniffled, regaining her sense of composure. "Alright…time to be realistic, dammit. You can't keep avoiding this. If you're pregnant, you're pregnant. Finding out won't change anything. You _need _to know."

**100**

The gargling sound of her disposing of the awful taste in her mouth echoed throughout Jasper's chemist tent. She scrubbed her face after she spit it back into the cup. "Thanks for that." She said, clearing her throat. The nausea pulsed throughout her once more but she contained herself. Her eyes darted around the faded fabric, her confused and fumbling thoughts unable to be spoken. "You said Monty was going to meet you here?"

"Uh, yeah." Jasper said, "You need him?"

"Yeah." Clarke tapped her fingers against the cup awkwardly, unaware of how she wanted conversation to proceed. She was going to ask Monty about pregnancy detection herbs. There was no way in hell that she was going to her mother about her _problem. _There was a thin line across her face, no indication of a smile. Her heart was beating so _fast _that she thought she would pass out from the blood rushing in her ears.

Jasper furrowed his brows, "Clarke you look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine."

Her fingers started to shake in the mere prospect of being pregnant, beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Jasper reached a hand forward in time for Monty to open the flap of the tent and walked through. "Well, hello fearless leader."

Clarke snorted, "Hey…uh, I have a question."

_Don't do this._

_Don't do this._

_Don't do this._

_You still have time…_

The fear took over her entire sense of _urgency _because she started to launch into a completely different subject. "Do you think you can download the arrest logs today?" It was something she needed to get done but it wasn't her main intention. "We should really get this done as soon as possible. Collaborate with Miller because of his apprenticeship in the jail."

"We'll talk to Bellamy about the—" His name brought back the shakes to her fingers. Her eyes started to water, feeling slightly sick once more. _He left, s_he reminded herself.

_We can't have a baby. It would ruin everything. We don't even know what we are to each other. I need to focus on getting out of here—not him. Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why is it so hot in here? I let him in last night, I was trying to make progress and he left. That was his sign to me that he didn't want to move forward. _

_I can't push when he's so used to it._

_Now, he's pulling back because I'm moving too fast. _

_Last night was a mistake._

_This whole goddamn relationship was a mistake._

_I'm pregnant and I'm going to have to raise a baby by myself. _

"Clarke!" Jasper snapped his fingers in front of her face, "Hey, we were trying to explain how we're going to download the files…"

Clarke nodded her head, "Talk to Raven about it, too." She stood up and walked out of the tent. She started to mumble to herself, "It's all in your head…you're not pregnant…it's just in your head. You're imagining symptoms that's it. Come on, think about the fucking plan."

Her steps quickened as she avoided the guard tent. What if Bellamy was in there? She didn't want to see him. Ever. It was so odd that she felt this way because she made a habit of leaving before the sun even casted a shadow across the sky. It was her M.O., "Gone before dawn" was her motto. She was a hypocrite, pissed off with his behavior even though she did the same thing repeatedly. If they'd taken it back to his tent, would she of stayed?

_Yes. _

It struck her _hard _because she wasn't that type of person. She balled her fists and took a calming breath. What was he doing to her? What had he done to her? She was so sure that love was a weakness that love for her people was the only thing she could be so sure of…Lexa's training was designed to reinforce fear of relationships. She knew it would be _wrong _to further her relationship with Bellamy beyond primal intercourse and mutual understanding.

Yet, she found herself willing to break those "Lexian" rules, ignoring every word of advice Lexa offered her when it came to her personal life.

_Where the hell is Bellamy?_

_Dammit. _

_I think I'm in love with him. _

Fuck _me_.

_I am in love with that jackass. _

She didn't want to seem like she was running but she was moving extremely quickly throughout the camp. Her mind was running through possible confession strategies, could she just come out and say _'I'm in love with you' _or did she have to have some type of build up? And what about her other personal problem? _"I'm in love with you and hey, I might be pregnant"_ didn't seem like a reasonable statement.

She rounded a corner, slamming against her friend. "Ollie? Uh, hey."

"We need to talk."

"What? Now?"

He nodded his head, "Yeah, right now."

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	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Clarke blinked her eyes rapidly at Oliver, taking in his hard features and his annoyed expression—no, he was angry. The slight crinkle of his eyebrow, the twist of his lips as his teeth fell to them. "I'm going to ask you one time, Clarke—" He said with a stern finger, "One time. And I want you to be _honest _with me."

Her mind ran through every lie she'd ever told Oliver, most of them involving her plans for revolution. She started to think about the mission she'd sent her friends on—worried, she felt the need to rejoin with them. If he knew of her master plan and looked _that _angry, he couldn't be on her side about it. How did he know? She stammered, "W-whatever you think is going on, I swear it's no—"

"Are you with Bellamy?" When she didn't immediately respond, he continued on. "I've asked around, you know, about you two. I wanted to know… and then Monty tells me his hand was never injured and I started to get suspicious. So, are you with him?"

Something clicked, "Don't talk to people about my personal life."

"_Former _people." He snapped, "They aren't your people anymore, Clarke. You don't have a title here. You probably will never have any type of authority here."

"Do you really want to go there?" She stepped forward, "Insulting me because you're hurt."

"Do you really want to go _there_?"

The previous click in her mind turned into a hard, unrecoverable _snap._ She narrowed her eyes, her fingernails digging deeply into her palms. "If and how I'm fucking Bellamy is none of your business." Clarke said, "_Never _talk to my friends about your insecurities again…"

He shook his head, "So, you don't deny it?"

Instead of answering him, she walked away. There wasn't anything to say to Oliver. She could tell by his features that she'd probably lost him as a friend and more importantly as a source. She had Miller and Bellamy, now. Well, she always had Bellamy but she'd never used him as a source. If she needed anything, she would go to Miller.

She was quickly yanked, pulled to Oliver's chest as he stole a kiss from her. His lips were so hard against hers and as she struggled against his grip, he tried to deepen the kiss. Her fists started banging against his chest, "What the hell are you doing?" She screamed, tears filling her eyes. "How could you do that?"

"I'm _better _than him."

_Meanwhile…_

Bellamy was faces the consequences of his actions, his hair dripping with sweat as he finished running the necessary laps around camp. Octavia was waiting for him with a bottle of water and a serious expression on her face. "Something wrong?"

"Depends on your definition of wrong." Octavia started, "I talked to Lincoln."

"Yeah?"

"For the life of him, he can't understand how Clarke and Lexa are working together. The alliance was destroyed, it doesn't make sense. Lexa could easily take the Camp right now, according to Lincoln at least. If not take, surely weaken long enough to make another plan. She has mass amounts of alliances…" Bellamy started to process what his sister was saying. He wondered if he had been right to distrust the Commander in the beginning. Was Clarke so gullible that she put her trust in the wrong person? It wouldn't be the first time…

He exhaled, "What are you getting at Octavia?"

She held her hands up in defense, begging him to _understand _the concept she planned to present. "Lexa is in love with Clarke."

Bellamy snorted, "In love with Clarke?"

"And maybe Clarke has feelings for her too." Octavia said calmly, "I mean…she hasn't been with anyone since Finn and now it's come to light that she's been privately meeting with the Commander, who so graciously wants to offer her land and other little prizes. Maybe Clarke and Lexa are involved."

And all Bellamy could think about was Oliver and how Clarke would do anything for her people. He clenched his jaw, "I don't think that's true."

"Wow, you almost sound jealous." She remarked, "I just thought you should know the angle Lincoln's getting at. He says that Lexa's been sneaking off a lot lately. No one knows why… I don't think she's planning on double-crossing Clarke. I just think something is _up._"

_He was mad. _

**100**

Clarke looked at the light pink plus sign and shook the shit out of the test she stole from the medical bay again. "No, no, no…" Tears poured from the rims of her eyes, water droplets running down her face like knives. She sat on her bed, legs crossed with the wool blanket over her lap. "I'm pregnant." She _knew _it but having undebatable proof that she was knocked up frightened her—scared her beyond anything. And she hadn't seen Bellamy all day and she was starting to think it was on purpose. She even saw Miller once or twice and usually they were connected at the hip.

_Knock, Knock, Knock… _

She fell off the bed with a loud crash, almost in a laughable way as she hurriedly went to her door. She stood up, brushing herself off before opening the door. Bellamy moved past her, pacing around her before turning around to look into her eyes. "Today has been an interesting day." He claimed and Clarke darkly snorted at the concept. "And I know you don't want to talk about it but tough shit, Clarke. We're talking about it." He furrowed his eyebrows, "Were you crying?"

She sniffled, "No."

He shook his head, "Whatever lie to me, Clarke. Go ahead."

"I'm really not that dishonest, Bellamy." She reminded herself of Oliver's desperate plea for her honesty. She shrugged, "So what? I committed espionage but that doesn't make me a pathological liar." Her eyes drifted as she tried to look away from him to the pregnancy test, the stark white color completely contrasting with the dark metal floors. "Uh…hey, so we should take this somewhere else."

"No, we're talking about this now!" He exhaled, "I know this is important to you. This rebellion is important to me, too but if you're…" _Prostituting yourself _"…meeting the needs of people to get this far and secure a future, then it's not worth it."

"What?"

He sighed, "It doesn't make sense that Lexa is simply giving you this land."

"She's a friend."

"She's in love with you." Bellamy corrected her, "She is in love—"

Clarke closed her eyes tightly, knowing that he saw it.

The test.

_Shit. _

"Is that a pregnancy test?"

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**-Brooke**


	11. Chapter 11

"_But you're still waiting on the moment breath is bated_

_I wish I could hold you, I can't take it_

_Tell you all my secrets_

_I'm too faded_

_Praying that tomorrow I'll be braver_

_Maybe I can tell you, maybe we can do this_

_Kisses on my forehead we can fall into it_

_Love you like the rain, falls much faster_

_Living in a piece of ever after_

_Forever after…" – Bated Breath_

Chapter 11:

There was no pleasure in watching her azure eyes fill to the rims, leaking out her sorrow and fear. Yet, he could not offer any comforting words or gentle touches due to his own hurricane of emotions. It was like he was stuck-lost for words, in a sense, and it was a torturous weight on his burning throat. He thought about giving into the threatening tears, he thought about breaking down before her like a child. But he contained himself. He stayed rigid in his effort to _keep it together. _After moments of awkward silence, moments of her sucking in air to push back her tears, moments of unspoken confessions she opened her mouth and said, "She isn't in love with me. She respects me. You've saved my ass plenty of times before _this thing. _Isit that hard to believe that she would do the same because of our mutually beneficial friendship?"

"Yes." He sighed heavily, grateful that she'd created a temporary wall to avoid the important matter that literally laid before their feet. "Because although I respected you, I would be lying if I said I didn't _feel _for you." Her golden blonde hair, the delicate ivory of her skin always attracted him. His respect manifested into lust—love—over time.

She blinked once before choking out the word, "What?"

"Please, Clarke—"

She snorted, "That's my line."

"—I didn't just pick you out of a crowd. Dammit, Clarke after everything; the good and the bad, you have to understand that I had no intentions of being in _here _with you. You are intoxicatingly annoying, forever disagreeable and somehow you've gotten underneath my skin—figuratively and literally—and it is the most confusing concept I've ever been faced with. So, yes…these _feelings _have been brewing for a long time. Yes, I had feelings for you _before _this started. Before this moment."

Still unwilling to address their problem, Clarke pushed forward in their conversation concerning Lexa's possible feelings. "Why does it bother you so much?" She looked up at him, her tears already drying on her face as she tried to remain calm. Isn't this what she wanted? Why did it feel like a pity confession?

"Huh?" _Shit. _He was expecting her to stammer, expecting her to say something after his small speech but she still wanted to talk about Lexa? She wanted to continue down the path of avoidance when he was attempting to give her his heart…

Clarke shrugged, an act Bellamy was starting to despise when it came to her evasion tactics. "Lexa could very well have feelings for me but it doesn't really matter because I don't have feelings for her." She crossed her arms over her chest, gauging his reaction for a moment. He could tell she was trying to read him, trying to see where his head was and how to move forward. She was planning in her head and he couldn't be _mad _because she was _trying. _"Lexa doesn't even humor the concept of love, let alone fall in love."

"Because she's bitter."

"She's strong." Clarke crossed her arms, "And you're changing the subject to her personality rather than addressing my question. Why does it matter if she is in _love _with me?"

"The same reason it matters when you're having lunch with Oliver or spending too much time with Miller..." He said sheepishly, his hand cupping the back of his head. He wanted to tell her the extent of how much it mattered, show her how much it mattered but he was going to wait for her to catch up. "It just matters, Clarke."

"Oh, I see because you're an insufferable caveman." Clarke bit her lip as a small laugh escaped her lips.

"Precisely, Clarke." He rolled his eyes, trying to mimic sarcasm but he knew she was absolutely right. He was jealous. She knew that he was jealous. It mattered because he viewed her as _his _and anyone, no matter her emotions towards them, happened to be the enemy. He was possessive to a fault but at least he knew what he wanted. _Her. _

Only _her._

He exhaled uneasily, "A caveman that will always—" He place his finger under her chin so she would look into his eyes, "—be jealous of anyone who looks at you with mooneyes and any deeper intentions of a two minute conversation."

"I don't understand you, Bellamy Blake. Not in the slightest."

"And I don't understand you either, Clarke. You could have told me about the, you know, suspicion of your current state…I'm assuming, at least… we're in this together. Always have, always will be." He shook his head, "You're my…" Bellamy was struggling to find the appropriate words for their situation, finally deciding to settle for one word she seemed to respond to, "Princess."

"We aren't even together." She pointed out, "Not really. I'm not degrading whatever this is when I say that what we have doesn't extend past the confines of our rooms."

"Because you're stubborn." He chuckled, looking down at his feet until he felt comfortable to meet her searching eyes. He stepped forward, catching the loose pieces of her hair between his fingers as he cupped her face.

"Excuse me?" She smiled, her lips parting with the expectation of a kiss. His tone was playfully light as he leaned down.

"You heard me, you're stubborn. It's not a secret, you know? How I feel about you…not the way you make how you feel about me a secret." His lips were an inch away from hers, "It's not like I hide the way your touch drives me crazy, or how your laugh—as rare as it is—makes my skin shiver. I want to have you like you have me."

"Please, say that again."

"I want to have you like you have me, Princess." Their lips met like a contract, sealed with her fingers tangling in his hair and their breathing becoming ragged. They hadn't talked about _it… _he knew that they had to talk about it. So, when he broke the kiss despite not _wanting _to, he didn't expect her response.

"I love you, too."

He smirked, although he was clearly caught off guard, "I didn't say love, Princess."

"You didn't have to." Clarke said, "Not the way I have to tell you that you are intoxicatingly, infuriatingly annoyed and forever disagreeable and I am in love with you." She paused for a moment and he went to say something but she cut him off, "And before you say anything, I know I'm supposed to give you an out right now. I'm supposed to tell you that I can take care of this, that you don't have to be part of the baby's life but I can't do that. I can't do that because you've constantly had my back through everything and I don't think I can do it by myself." She looked him in his eyes and repeated the words she said weeks ago—and he realized how it felt like she'd said them years ago—"I need you. _We _need you."

He nodded his head, feeling like that was the only thing he could do in the situation. He pulled her into a tight hug, his hand moving down her hair as he kissed the side of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Princess."

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	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

_Two Days Later… _

The alarm clock flashed 2:36 AM.

Her finger pressed into the side of Bellamy's cheek hesitantly as she turned on her stomach. Blonde tangles fell under her bare skin, only leaving some to float down her back. Her creamy complexion enhanced the golden highlights, contrasting dimly with the neon red light from the alarm clock Monty fashioned for her. "Bellamy…" She nearly moaned, her voice heavy from exhaustion. He didn't move. Clarke poked him again, harder than before. He swatted her hand away, turning over to his side. She scooted closer, bringing her body up in the process. Her hand wrapped around his taut, muscular arm as she proceeded to give him a semi-gentle shake, "Bell—ah—meeeee!" Clarke whined, unnaturally so, until he opened one of his eyes to acknowledge her.

"Did you need something, princess?" He grumpily asked, turning onto his back once more. She positioned herself to rest her cheek against his chest. "Hmmm?" His follow-up was less grumpy, more relaxed and sleep deprived than anything. He instinctively started to play with her hair, falling back to sleep for a mere second before she started talking to him.

"I can't sleep." She stated the obvious, her bottom lip extended until she'd successfully pulled off the most pitiful pout he'd ever seen. Clarke was used to restless nights but this was different. "How far along do you think I am? I think six to seven weeks… I don't know, though. Do you think I got pregnant the first time we slept together? I mean, from what I remember of that night we weren't safe at all…and that would put me at—"

"Seven weeks, three days." Bellamy mumbled, "Yeah. I know. I think you should talk to your mom."

She snorted, louder than he necessarily wanted to hear, "Yeah, right. No way in hell. I'm not telling my mom about this."

"About us?"

"About having a baby, Bellamy." Clarke corrected him, "Once she finds out I'm pregnant, it'll be impossible to _finish _this. I need to—we need to—keep this on the down low until we're out of here. Monty, Miller and Raven are prepared to hack into the mainframe tomorrow to get the recent arrest logs. Then, I'll start talking to the people—"

"No way in hell." He mocked her previous tone, "I'm not letting you talk to criminals, Clarke."

"Bellamy," She said flatly, "I know you're tired, but please review that statement. If you don't let me talk to criminals, and that will never happen because you don't tell me what to do, I wouldn't have any friends. By definition and arrest records, everyone we associate except Raven—oh, wait she was arrested that one time down here…" Clarke shook her head, "Anyway—happen to be criminals."

"Non-violent criminals."

Clarke remembered the rumors of Jasper's infamous ax-wielding avengement, tried to forget her own actions in TonDC. Maybe they were arrested as non-violent but the title hadn't remained. She slit someone's throat not too long ago, sentenced innocent people to death for a _cause…_shot a man in the heart. "We're all violent, Bellamy…under the right circumstances. I can handle myself and if it makes you feel better, I'll take Miller with me."

"I'll go with you."

She frowned, "We've talked about this."

"No, you talked while I nodded my head." Bellamy sighed, "We're better as a united front, we've always been better that way. I don't understand why you're trying to split us up politically."

"We might be a symbol of hope to our people but we're a symbol of destruction to the others. Honestly, they'd think we were up to something and even though we are up to something… I'd rather they never find out until much too late."

He looked over at the clock, "It's almost 3 A.M., Princess…" It was his version of saying he was tired. She wasn't going to listen to anything he said. Clarke moved over him, sliding between his legs. He arched an eyebrow, moving his leg over as she nudged as his thigh. "If you're doing what I think you're doing, just know that it's completely manipulative."

"Mmhm, yeah." Clarke commented, her hand moving to his already rising manhood. Then she stopped because this was Clarke and she always had to _tease_ him. "You know what, I am feeling really tired now. Thanks _honey._"

"Clarke…" He murmured. He couldn't _stand _to be toyed with by her, knowing damn well that she could send him so overboard that he would have to finish himself due to her "sudden lack of interest." She really could be so cruel at times. A soft, animalistic mewl broke through her sultry lips as he grabbed her wrist to show that he was very serious about her tedious teasing. He tossed his head back into the pillow, relinquishing his entire body to her because of her throaty little sound. He was clearly affected by everything she did to a point of no return.

She glanced up at him, from what he could see in the neon light, her eyes partially hooded by her long eyelashes. In only a brief second, her pink tongue darted from her lips, wetting his tip like she'd done this multiple times. Honestly, he could only think of two occasions in which Clarke selflessly divulged in oral sex—one of those being the time he accidentally got shot at guard practice. He was simply grazed by the bullet but Clarke huskily said, "_Let me take care of you" _and who was he to say no?

He only exhaled in shallow breaths, finding it hard to remain completely composed considering his lack of sleep and overall escalated pleasure. She slowly moved down his throbbing cock, eliciting a loud groan from him. Her hand that was not rubbing small circles into the lower part of his shaft reached towards him, resting on the ripple of his abs ever-so-softly. Bellamy closed his eyes, feeling her hot breath around him as well as the quite impressive suction she'd managed without much practice. Her hallowing cheeks as she engulfed him with such mesmerizing motions almost caused him to lose it.

Then, she released him and moved up his body with such confidence, it caused him to shiver. Her knees eventually pressed into his sides, her mouth moving to his neck as she sucked at his sensitive skin. He felt like his brain was short-circuiting and Clarke was the cure to his faulty wiring. Bellamy swallowed hard before gripping her hips and swinging her to the opposite side of the bed. She looked up at him, breathing heavily in the most innocent way possible. "You're going to sleep after this." He promised, connecting their mouths as she accepted his deep thrust. It was fast and frantic; unconscious provocative rocking became the center of their worlds. Her body rose up to meet his quick thrusts, her hands splayed on either side of her head asking to be held by him. She didn't know how they communicated sometimes, but it was like he read her mind when he placed both of his hands in hers. He slowly moved her hands above her head, his kisses becoming stronger as sweat formed between their bodies.

She moaned into his mouth and when he broke the kiss to observe her face, he noticed her eyes were closed tightly and how her breathing came out in a mixture of a pleasurable laugh and harsh pants. He placed a kiss on her jaw before bringing his lips to her ear. "Cum for me, Princess…" He begged, his swollen lips moving over the skin just below her ear. Her fiery cataclysmic response caused him to smile into her flesh as he listened to her ride the waves of her orgasm—the delicate way she called his name, making him feel like he needed her _more. _He released her hands, only for her to grab his wrist from above her head. Her eyes were closed and she looked so blissful, so at peace underneath him as her breasts bounced with his every pounding thrust.

"Bellamy…" She sighed, batting her eyelashes as she met his brown eyes.

He looked down at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges when he whispered, "God, you're beautiful." His release was earth-shattering, his body shaking before he collapsed beside her. He placed a hand on her cheek, bringing her face closer to his so he could kiss her goodnight. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

**Review!**

**A/N: **

**Ever been really confused about a ship? Like, I don't know how I feel about Clexa, most likely because I love the Bellarke dynamic so much…that spoiler completely fucked me up. Like, it took me two hours to think straight because I hate that I love it so much. I'm perfectly fine with it as long as the road leads to Bellamy. Honestly, though, if I have to wait four years for them to get together—I will die. (Been there, done that TVD.) **

**-Brooke. **


	13. Chapter 13

"And another one bites the dust

But why can I not conquer love?

I might have thought that we were one

Why not fight this war without weapons?

And I want it and I wanted it bad

But there were so many red flags

Now another one bites the dust

**And let's be clear, I trust no one**"

Chapter 13:

She rubbed her dry palms together, breathing into them in hopes to warm her chilled skin. "You're hovering." Monty complained as he ripped the wires from the metal panel, picking through the many different colors until a grin broke out across his face. Clarke joined him for a microsecond, until she heard the familiar sound of boots connecting with metal. "Someone's coming…"

"It's lunchtime, no one's supposed to be here." Monty's face fell at the thought of getting caught breaking into the mainframe to download privileged information. Suddenly, he remembered that he was arrested for smoking pot rather than something badass like assault. Clarke had been arrested for treason, not exactly a light charge and if they were discovered, they'd both tote the charge until they were promptly executed_. _

"_We're _not supposed to be here." Clarke reminded him, turning on her heels. "How much time do you need?" He noticed the calculative glint in her eyes. It a wave of calm through him. He knew Clarke would try her damnedest to keep him safe. It was a common understand amongst their adolescent peers. Clarke would protect them at all costs like a mother bear protecting her slightly idiotic cubs.

"Five, six minutes." He hurriedly said as he watched her step out of the control room with a sense of urgency. He couldn't see the way her fingernails dug into her palms or feel how her heart pounded against her ribs. He couldn't feel the worry pulsing through her veins for not only the master plan, but the future of the baby growing in her. Clarke tried to block out the motherly parts of her in an attempt to be successful but with each passing second, it was becoming extremely difficult to think of anything but her pregnancy.

_Focus. _

She rounded the corner, preparing to be met with anything—anyone. Clarke let out a sigh of relief when she saw Miller, "What the hell, Nathan?" Clarke demanded, tugging him behind the corner with a thin-lipped expression. "You were supposed to stay outside. On guard. Why? Because you're a _guard._"

He shrugged, "Harper's handling it."

"Harper?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Clarke crossed her arms, "Five to six minutes, we should be out of here. Next time I tell you to wait outside, you wait outside. Understand?" Miller simply nodded, watching as her breathing slowed to a normal rate. "You scared the shit out of Monty."

"Just Monty?"

Clarke frowned.

Miller chuckled, "You two spook too easily."

"No I don't."

Time never ticked so slowly. Their backs to the wall, arms crossed Miller and Clarke waited for Monty to run out of the room with the tablet. She was past the point of making conversation with her friend. Her thoughts were too complicated to form any type of intelligible sentences. It dawned on her how acutely dangerous her master plan happened to be and the risk she was taking every second she involved herself too deeply in the mission. It wasn't just _her _life she was putting up as a sacrifice, it was her child's life as well.

_I'm completely failing at this mom thing, already. _

Even with this knowledge, Clarke knew that her child would never have a good life caged behind the electric walls of Camp Jaha. The child of Clarke Griffin, former leader of the 100 and temporarily Camp Jaha, and Bellamy Blake would be cursed to a life of oppression due to _fear. _She would not let the fear destroy her child. She would not let her fear destroy her plan.

Because it wasn't just _her _child.

She had to think about the larger picture. Her eyes shifted towards Miller and then in the direction of Monty… she had to think about _their _children too—even if they were all still considered children within the walls of camp. This was not a place for the children of "criminals" to grow up. The discrimination would weigh down on their shoulders every single day. And if Clarke simply gave up for the sake of her life, what would happen to all the grounder children? As a mother, no matter if her time as mother only extended seven weeks and three days, she had to think about _all_ the children.

Then, there was also Bellamy. She had to think about Bellamy and their relationship. Clarke already knew that he was going to be in rare form tonight because she didn't inform him before she and Monty launched into "Mission Prison", as Jasper coined. She knew that he would slow her down if she even stopped to discuss the fact that she was moving forward ten minutes after lunch time with his worries. They were slightly early due to the fact that she was too nauseous to eat but that was irrelevant in the scheme of things. It wasn't like she didn't tell him of the plan, though. She simply left some of the key details out mostly because she didn't want him to intervene and become overprotective. She was positive she'd hear an earful about cutting him out of her decisions later but it wasn't her top thought at the moment.

Monty exited the Control Center with an accomplished grin on his face, the same he sported earlier, and greeted Miller with a head nod. "Let's get the hell out of here before we actually get caught by the uncorrupted law."

"Oh, the irony of that statement." Miller nearly sung as they walked out of the back entrance. Each person checked their surroundings before parting in different directions. Clarke found herself walking towards the Medical Bay despite her hesitation to even lay eyes on her mother. Ever since Clarke found out about Kane's goals, she'd had a hard time talking to the woman.

"_There is blood on your hands, and I'm afraid you won't be able to wash it off this time."_

Clarke darkly thought as she met Abby's brown eyes, _How does it feel? _

They were alone for the first time in a week and her mother roughly threw down the alcohol soaked rag in her hand. She knew before her mom opened her mouth that she was going to say something Clarke disagreed with. "I think we need to talk, Clarke…" Abby started, "…about you and Bellamy Blake."

_Well, shit._

**Review! **

**Thanks for reading! It means a lot to have such great feedback!**

**-Brooke. **


	14. Chapter 14

"_What if I told you that it was all in vain?_

_Would it still hurt you?_

_Would you still feel the same?_

_Said it's impossible,_

_So impossible…"_

Chapter 14:

Three unsteady heartbeats filled the silence before Clarke managed to speak, "You aren't supposed to be here." Clarke knew the risk of coming into the Medical Bay in the first place but she had a fraction of hope that her mother would stick to the routine she and Kane fell into months ago. They were _supposed _to be having lunch together as usual. Thinking on it, she hadn't seen Kane the entire day. If she hadn't been so caught up on completing the mission, she would have questioned his absence more but they were on a time limit. Now, she felt extremely stupid for not bringing it up in the first place. "Where's Kane?"

Abby Griffin cleared her throat, obviously wanting to talk about Bellamy instead of Kane. "He's leading a mission." There was something in her mother's confession that sent a shiver up her spine. Abby's eyes darkened, shifted away from her daughter's prying glares. For a moment, Clarke thought it might be shame. But for what?

"What?" All mission had to be sanctioned. People were supposed to be informed. How could he be leading a mission _no one knew about? _Clarke's eyebrows pulled together with momentary confusion until she remembered the type of people who graciously led their camp. Miller's comment concerning Monty's joke registered in her mind once more. _Corrupt_. "What type of mission?" She begged her mother to say something foolish like _hunting_, or _resource scouting. _She could live with the minor corruption in their system if it was something minuscule but necessary for survival. But she knew it wasn't either of those things. She knew it wasn't something _small. _

"I'm not a liberty to say." Abby said quietly, turning her body away from Clarke.

"_What type of mission, mom_?" Clarke raised her voice as she gripped her mother's shoulder, turning her around so she could see her. If Abby was going to lie, she wanted Abby to lie to her face. Her heart stopped. It felt like a sinkhole formed beneath her feet and the only thing keeping her up was a cartoon pause. Then, her heart started to beat again and she didn't know what was worse:

Resilience or the wait…

Clarke made the necessary leaps, knowing that Kane only had one topic that her mother would be so secretive about. The grounders. She decided within seconds of Abby's response that whatever was about to happen, or whatever was happening had to be_ her_ fault. No matter what it was, she'd let someone down. She let Lexa down.

_I let this happen._

Abby exhaled, "Clarke, honey, there are things you don't need to know." Clarke was running through calculations and possibilities. The majority of guards—the expert guards, the trigger-happy guards, the experienced guards—were still in camp. For the first time, the heavy presence of people who would love to arrest or kill someone calmed her. The calming feeling only lasted briefly as her mother moved closer, letting her in on Kane's mission. "Have you ever heard of the Bay of Pigs?"

"_What?"_ Clarke knew exactly what the Bay of Pigs happened to be. Her question was one of shock, one of raw emotion.

"John F. Kennedy wanted—"

Clarke breathed heavily on the verge of tears, "Kane's trying to kill—" _don't say Lexa, don't say Lexa, don't say Lexa… _"—the Commander?" She pushed back her tears because she did not need to look sympathetic. The plan must go on.

The plan must move forward no matter what…

"I'm worried about him, too." Abby misread her distraught expression, "Oliver volunteered to go with him. I don't mean to tell you this to upset you… he's your friend. I suppose you have the right to know not that I've told you of the mission."

"I—I have the right to know? _They—" _She motioned towards the entrance of the Medical Bay to indicate the citizens of the camp. "—have the right to know. You should have informed the people!" _So I could stop it…so I could warn Lexa… _

Abby shook her head, "This is wartime, Clarke. We don't have to inform the citizens of this camp before we make an executive action. The grounders will be subdued without their leader. We're saving lives, Clarke. You can save lives, sweetie. The Commander's death is a good thing."

She felt the sting of tears running down her face, suddenly recalling her dream from nights ago. There she was, split between being a grounder and being an Arker. _Who am I? _There were shattered remnants of hope in her heart that Kane would be unsuccessful. But if he was successful—if he managed to kill Lexa—everything would change. Her sobs picked up as she imagined the grounders in cages once more, as she imagined her dead friend, as she imagined her people being trapped in this camp because of her repeated hesitation.

Her mother pulled her into a hug and whispered, "It's going to be alright. Everything's going to be _fine._"

_I hope so… _

"Do I have to worry about your friendship with Bellamy Blake, Clarke?" _Are you planning something dangerous with him, Clarke?_

"No."

_Yes. _

**Review, please.**

**-Brooke. **

**(Not my best chapter, I have to admit that I struggled with this one!)**


	15. Chapter 15

"And I know that I can survive

I walked through fire to save my life

And I want it, I want my life so bad

And I'm doing everything I can

Then another one bites the dust

It's hard to lose a chosen one

You did not break me"

Chapter 15:

Bellamy cleaned the gun, his rough brushes of the micro-bristle scrubber vibrating throughout the communications tent. The name came from their previous tent but there was only a few radios and disassembled parts across the table. He heard the flap being pulled aside as Monty ran in, his wide grin sinking as he noticed Bellamy. "Uh—hey…" He said, lowering his head as he started running a finger across the smooth surface of the tablet. "Did you, uh, need something?"

"You were successful, then?" Bellamy leaned back in the chair with a contemplative look on his face. Monty couldn't decide whether he was glad they completed the mission or angry they embarked on it in the first place. "Come on, Clarke didn't really think she could hide it from me?"

"That wasn't her intention." Monty defended his friend, even if he didn't know what he was exactly defending her for. "We are on a time limit. There are less guards during lunchtime. We've had this plan for a few days now. Clarke said she told you…_oh…_"

Bellamy bit the inside of his cheeks to contain his hurt, "Yeah."

"Well, I'm sure it wasn't personal. You know Clarke…especially lately…she has her own agenda. It's difficult to trust other people to live up to expectations." Monty shrugged, "Clarke and Lexa have been working together since the mountain and we're just now finding out about it. She's become this secretive person to _survive. _I'm not expecting her to roll out the red carpet on all the thoughts in her head and I don't think you should either. In times like these, it's hard to decipher between friend and foe."

_It's different. We're different. I'm supposed to be different. _

It was unlike him to confide in anyone, but Monty seemed to have a grasp on Clarke's interworking thoughts. Even though Bellamy found himself envious, he understood how he was too emotionally clouded to see through Clarke's actions. Monty muttered, "And isn't it all about survival, Bellamy? What we're doing to people we've grown up with—lived with? I understand it's the right thing to do, I really do, but that doesn't make it easy."

"I don't have connections to these people the way you do." Bellamy reminded Monty in a gruff voice before clearing his throat, "But you make a valid point."

"The only person that she seems to get along with his Oliver. They publicly date but she hasn't brought him in the plan yet. Makes me—"

"They aren't together." He suppressed a possessive growl, meeting Monty's eyes.

Monty continued forward, not knowing what was good for his health. "I think you're wrong because I saw them kissing like three days ago. About damn time, Ollie's an alright person. I mean, he doesn't exactly fit in with any of us. Maybe he's a spy, too."

"You saw them kiss?" Bellamy's anger spiked to a whole new level. He'd never felt so jealous in his life—or betrayed. What if Oliver was her _real _lover? What if Oliver was the _real _father of her child? What if Oliver was a spy and they were in on it together?

_Stop. _

_None of that is true. _

_You _know _Clarke better than anyone. _

_Monty is wrong. _

_He _has _to be wrong. _

"Well, I saw Oliver kissing Clarke. They must have been fighting or something." He acted like it was no big deal, unaware of how big of a deal it actually was. "I think she's going through a transition phase, is all…she'll snap back eventually."

Bellamy opened his mouth to follow up but any conversation was cut off by excessive cheering outside of the tent. "What the hell is going on?" He asked before Jasper ran inside the tent. His eyes were wide, worried—a fear he hadn't seen in a long time. Bellamy quickly reassembled the gun and turned off the safety. Monty moved behind him, letting him take the lead.

Monty thought, _like papa bear…protecting the cubs. Huh, weird. _

"Kane—he—they—I…I…Clarke is going to be devastated." The mere mention of Clarke in Jasper's jumbled words had his heart beating unnaturally fast. Jasper shook his head back and forth before uttering the statement that would change everything, "Lexa's dead."

He took a step back as if the words were a physical blow. "What?" He asked slowly, his brows crinkling as his mind drew a completely blank. Monty's face had paled, and Bellamy imagined he was the same color. He felt like he was going to get sick. He felt like he was going to pass out. "I've got to find Clarke…"

_Meanwhile…_

Clarke found herself pushing through the crowds of people; her palms sweating, her heart racing. It was the realest moment of her entire life. Every color was so vivid, yet so hazy when her eyes darted elsewhere. She finally understood the definition of tunnel vision. Clarke could hear her blood rushing in her ears, she could feel it draining from her face. She stopped pushing, stopped grabbing people by the backs of their shirts to get the out of the way, when her toes were inches away from a headless body covered in cloth.

"The Commander is dead!" Kane cheered, meeting his eyes as tears started to fall down her cheeks. He looked at her. He watched as her lips parted in sorrow, shock, mourning… and said more quietly, "Long live the Exodus Charter." He was reminding her that he could have her executed the second she stepped out of line. He was reminding her that her father was killed for treason. He was trying to tell her that he could see it on her face.

He was giving her the chance to recant the treacherous look in her eyes, probably out of respect for her mother. Clarke nodded, her heart elated by the fact that she wasn't be arrested on sight. Kane still didn't know.

But he would.

Clarke looked down at her feet.

_Not Lexa. _

The dimensions matched but Clarke knew in her heart that it wasn't Lexa. Lexa wasn't dead. Lexa _couldn't _be dead. Those shattered remnants of hope started to reform into something stronger, less breakable. She remembered the Lexa had some work to do, that she hadn't gone back to her home. She remembered that Lexa could take Kane. She remembered that Lexa _never _travelled alone…there would be more bodies.

_It's not Lexa. _

"Yu gonplei ste odon" Clarke whispered to the poor grounder despite her relief that it was not her friend. "Commander." She said for Kane's benefit. As she turned, slowly pushing her way through the crowd once more, she sighed. There was still hope for her plan—her people, Lexa's people. They needed to act _now. _

She weaved through everyone until she was in front of the communications tent. She needed the tablet, she needed to read the names of people she could trust. "Clarke!" She wasn't ready to face Oliver but he carefully jogged up to her. "I was looking for you…"

"You found me." She said shortly, "What?"

"We did it!" He gushed excitedly, "We're going to win this… Kane chose me and I completed the job."

"You cut off her head?" Oliver cut off the head of an innocent woman. Clarke felt sick. The guy with the playful jokes and the forward attitude _killed _an innocent person and had the nerve to be excited about it. "You killed her?"

"What's wrong? I thought you would want to know. You used to care about my work all the time… I knew you were looking forward to the mission. Despite everything that's been going on, our fight, I thought this would make you happy." Oliver was wounded by her disgust, "This is what's best for your people, Clarke."

"My former people." She threw his words back at him but there was a bit of truth in them. She cataloged each person celebrating the death of the "Commander" and put them under the category: "NOT ALLOWED IN WATERMELON PARK." As she took a step back, she realized that Oliver belonged in that category as well. "I have to talk to Monty."

"You mean Bellamy." He threw back in light of the resurfacing argument. "Always Bellamy."

She whispered, "Always" so low that she barely heard herself. Oliver nodded, pissed off as usual, and headed in the opposite direction. She stood there, trying to control her breathing before she stepped into the tent.

There wasn't a soul in sight. Clarke moved the broken radios around, her hands searching for the tablet. _Maybe he has it? _She continued to feel her way around the tent until she stopped by the cot in the corner and frowned. She lowered herself to her knees, looking underneath the blanket covered mattress. Her eyes found the tablet and she retrieved it easily. She made a mental note to talk to Monty about his hiding abilities.

She powered it on, her finger moving across the screen as she walked out of the tent. Due to the distraction everyone seemed to be spelled by, Clarke found it easy to move in the outskirts of camp until she had to turn to get to her part of the fallen Ark. She eased into her room, engaged in the list of names. She reached for a pencil on her desk, using the dull eraser as a stylus as she crossed out names based on their crimes.

As she read, she reminded herself to look at the details of the crime. She'd met a lot of people accused of assault that had a damn good reason to punch a member of the guard in the face. In the process, she brought up the 100's arrest records, her eyes falling to the little boxes that said _"DECEASED"_

It made her sad.

_Remember when you thought 18 was a rough number to live with?_

_Back to Bellamy…_

He couldn't find her in the midst of all the chaos raging on outside. Monty and Jasper clung to his side like scared little kids—as if they hadn't walked the halls of hell weeks ago, like they were the same little druggies they were when they landed. They eventually turned around and headed back to the communications tent. "What the _fuck_?" Jasper voiced as he looked at the ransacked place. "Who did this?"

Monty rushed over to the bed, peering underneath it. "The tablet's gone." He said, "Only five people knew I had it. Two of them are in this room. You think they know?" Monty started to hyperventilate. He rubbed his palms together repeatedly, mumbling words that Bellamy couldn't understand. "No, no I don't think they know…we would know, if they know right?"

Jasper nodded, "Yeah because they've never arrested someone by surprise. They always give fair warning. We're all going to die!"

"Calm the hell down..." Bellamy pointed to both of them, "Before I shoot you both in the legs. Whoever was in here was looking for something specific. Your tablet. So, it had to be someone who knows. It wouldn't be Miller, he hates technology. Harper wouldn't take it either. That leaves Clarke. Clarke would, if she was determined enough, do this. Meaning, while you're doing the weird breathing thing, I'm going to track down Clarke and see what she's thinking."

Monty nodded but stopped Bellamy before he was completely out of sight, "Just remember what I said earlier…okay? Don't walk in like a fucking badass and start fighting. Her friend just died. This changes e_verything._"

Bellamy paused, "I know."

**100**

Clarke turned over and faced the clock, it read 6:54 PM. "Dammit…"She groaned, her hair tangled around her neck. The tablet left an indention in her side, a perfect rectangle. Clarke snorted as she placed her feet on the ground, hissing because of the cold metal feeling on her toes. Her continued absence would create problems if she strayed too long from her people. She imagined they had a thousand questions.

_What's next?_

_Why today?_

_Who was on their side?_

_Who would never be involved?_

_Where are they going?_

_How are they going to get there? _

She dressed herself appropriately for the evening chill, brushing her hair back from her jacket as she tightened it around her. She tucked the tablet in her jacket when she opened her room door, walking down the hallway. She imagined a feast taking place in honor of Kane's merciless kill. That thought sickened her. As she walked out in the open, she noticed their blissful ignorance. How stupid could they be? Thinking their leaders just killed the grounder's leader without any repercussion. It wasn't in them to mourn.

They're warriors.

They would move on quickly and avenge their leader accordingly, that is, if she were dead. It added to her belief that Lexa remained alive. _Shit…I should probably talk to Monty. I left his tent in pieces. _She scanned the grounds, looking for people she'd rather avoid before ducking into Monty's tent.

"Well look who decided to show. Where have you been?" Harper threw a piece of meat in her mouth. Clarke put a fist over her mouth so she wouldn't throw up. She waited before responding to Harper.

When she felt normal, she looked down at the tablet and started talking. "Sorry about the mess. I was in a hurry." She explained, "Uh…so, went over the files. I have about fifteen names of adults, plus our friends. Honestly, I'm suspecting a few of the grounders to intermingle with us, though. We don't want to be overpopulated. I don't know everything about the land yet…" She looked up to find them all staring at her.

Monty shook his head in sympathy, "It's okay to cry, Clarke."

Jasper looked at his friend, "She's so brave."

"So brave." Harper parroted.

Clarke put down the tablet on the desk, "Lexa isn't dead." Their eyes widened and they exchanged meaningful lips. She thought she heard Jasper mumbled something about _denial, _she narrowed her eyes. "She isn't. I saw the body, it wasn't her. I mean…it looked like her but it wasn't _her. _It was fake…Kane failed."

"Bellamy was looking for you." Monty stopped Clarke in her tracks so she didn't seem so crazy in front of the people she was supposed to lead. "Last time I saw him, he was with Miller and Octavia around the fire…and Clarke, it's okay to cry if you need to…"

Clarke clenched her jaw, "Lexa isn't dead." Everyone lowered the gazes before she departed.

_I'm not crazy. I am not crazy._

_Lexa is alive. _

**Feedback welcomed; review! Thanks for the comments so far. I'm sort of losing motivation for this story even though it's one of my favorites. **


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16:

There was a winter wind blowing around her, touching her white nose until it was rubbed red by the effortless breath of Mother Nature. Clarke felt _off. _It was something she had to deal with, she figured, because of her growing pregnant body. It was difficult to envision herself as pregnant, growing—it was difficult to envision anything but the perfect fantasy she had of Watermelon Park. She would have to do better.

Her mind was a chaotic ocean, the tides pulling forward and pulling back as plans, schemes, images of the dead body, and her pregnancy moved through her head. She wanted to be a good mom, she wanted her baby to be her only thought, she wanted her relationship to be her only concern—but she couldn't _do that. _Clarke evaluated the snugness of her bra and how her clothes were getting tighter but it was something she would have to backdate until they were finished in camp. Then again, what if they didn't get out before she started to show? It was a matter of weeks at this point.

_You've got the names._

_Conduct discreet evaluations._

_Talk to Raven about getting into the armory. _

_Take Bellamy to Watermelon Park next trip; get in contact with Lexa. _

_Review "After Rebellion" plan with Lexa once more. _

_Miller and Bellamy should probably take the guns…_

_Take down Camp Jaha to the point of defenselessness. _

_Depart._

_Negotiate treaties between Camp Jaha, our camp, and the grounder tribe. _

Clarke, in theory, had a grip on what she was doing. That is, until she remembered that getting pregnant wasn't part of the plan. It shocked her that she never thought of terminating the pregnancy—it would have been rational, right? In truth, neither she nor Bellamy could truly be prepared for a baby right now. Yet, it never seemed like an option to her. That meant something, didn't it?

She pulled the jacket closer to her skin as another whisper of wind touched her. There were about eight small fires in her immediate point of view, she scanned them wondering how people were keeping the flames going with the chilly weather. Eventually, she caught a glimpse of Octavia's intricate braids. _She's related to my child, _Clarke thought, _she's the baby's aunt. _Clarke cleared her throat to announce her presence, gaining Bellamy and Miller's attention in the process. "Hey…" Bellamy said softly, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of grief. She saw something flicker in those brown pools that she didn't like but she ignored it for the sake of not making a scene. "Uh, how are you?" He moved his glance to his feet, taking a sip from the circular disk.

He was mad at her.

"Fine." Clarke bit back, unaware of why she was getting so annoyed with the fact that he was _mad. _She settled herself beside Miller. The awkward feeling in her chest bubbled but she finally spoke up, "Looked over the tablet. I only found fifteen names that screamed _Future Resident _besides everyone else."

"Uh…" Octavia swallowed hard, "I kind of feel like a list of names should be the last thing on your mind, considering…"

Clarke shrugged nonchalantly, "Lexa isn't dead."

"Excuse me?" Miller coughed, "Clarke…"

She snapped, "I'm not in fucking denial, stop looking at me like that!" Clarke inhaled and exhaled three times before she found her normal, sane self. "She's not dead. It doesn't make sense because if Lexa was dead, we'd all be dead. Riders would be at our gates right now."

Octavia nodded in agreement, "I can sneak out to meet with Lincoln and ask him for sure tomorrow."

"No." Bellamy said flatly, "Too dangerous."

"I agree." Clarke chimed in, meeting his eyes once more. "What? I'm allowed to agree with you." He did not comment. Clarke felt rejected. Bellamy, in her eyes, was being a dick. He couldn't _still _be mad about her leaving him out of the mission earlier. "She's alive…so, I think we should start evaluating people."

Miller was the one who decided he should start talking, "Oliver killed her. Even if that's not Lexa's body, Oliver killed her. Cut off an innocents head. I'm sorry, I know he's your _best friend _and all but I don't think we should be inviting one of Kane's lackeys."

"I know." She looked down at the ground, kicking the dirt with her toes. "Oliver—"

"Did you kiss Oliver?" Clarke's head shot up at Bellamy's question. "Are you involved with him? Because if you're involved with _him_ then this entire plan that you're so focused on is a complete waste of time!"

"I wouldn't go that far, Bellamy…" Octavia warned because she could sense an explosion coming from a mile away. It'd been a long time since she got to witness a public fight between Bellamy and Clarke. She was actually starting to miss it. If they were fighting, they were _working together. _Somehow, she liked their nonstop arguments and cheap punches better than silence. The silence reminded her that she was alone in Camp Jaha, forced to sneak out of Raven's gate every time she wanted to have an hour with Lincoln. When the treaty died, their relationship was supposed to die, too. She remembered having the choice to go with him, or stay with her people—the second time she was given that choice, actually…and she made the same choice. Every time they were together, she made the same choice. "Her relationship with Oliver is really none of your business."

Her comment was heard but ignored because of Clarke's response, "I've told you before that I am not involved with Oliver. We are not together. Did he kiss me? Yes, fine, he kissed me but it wasn't reciprocated. It didn't mean anything."

"It meant something to him." Bellamy said sternly, "And he's not going to like it when you leave him behind."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm just wondering if you're as committed to this as you say you are."

"Are you serious? This is my plan!" Clarke raised her voice, "You can't possibly be asking me where my loyalties stand."

"Maybe I am." Bellamy clenched his jaw and finally raised his head to look her in the eye. "How do we know you won't run off with one of them? Lexa…if she's even alive…or Oliver? Hmm? Because you're different from us. You can have a good life here. You can put in a few years and get on the council…and if that doesn't work out, you can run off with Lexa and do the same thing there. You can become her second easily. _We _have two options, go with you to this mystical land where all our dreams are supposed to come true or stay here and die like indentured slaves."

"Are you saying I don't have a good enough reason to go through with this? You know, besides the hundreds of people that could die if I don't? Your lives wouldn't be the only thing affected!" Clarke couldn't remember the last time she'd been so hurt by Bellamy Blake and his irrational logic—oxymoron if she'd ever heard one—or the last time he looked at her as if she were _the same girl _who grew up privileged on the Ark. She knew she could answer his questions with one simple statement but they agreed to keep their lives private. She couldn't tell him that she loved him for everything he was, everything he could be.

And then she thought of the baby again and how he or she, although she was sort of leaning towards a son, happened to be the best reason to go through with it (even if her pregnancy was the best reason to postpone it as well.) "Clarke, I'm sure Bellamy is just acting like an ass in light of things. He's worried. Of course we know that you're not going to leave us behind. Of course we know that you would sacrifice yourself, and probably a few other people but let's not focus on that, to save the lives of the innocent. Today has been a lot...for everyone. Maybe we should just call it a night?"

Clarke wished Octavia would have kept her mouth shut. Bellamy was teeter-tottering on the edge of a cliff. The word _sacrifice _wasn't helping their situation. Clarke started in again, "Are you saying I don't have a good enough reason to go through with this?" Yes, she was bringing her pregnancy into play. No, she was not ashamed of it. He needed to be reminded. "You think I don't want that life, too? Because Oliver kissed me and suddenly that makes me the enemy? Just listen to yourself, Bellamy, you sound like a complete jackass."

"Newsflash Princess, I am a complete jackass." Bellamy stood up, "I'm going to walk it off." He stepped past them, walking until she couldn't see him anymore. Clarke exhaled and looked down at her hands.

"At least he's learning to calm down…" Miller said slowly, "Who knew he hated Oliver that much?"

"…Or thought that low of me…" Clarke closed her fists and open them again. "It really has been a long day, hasn't it? I don't really have proof that Lexa's alive except a gut feeling and obviously that's not enough. I only got fifteen names out of a good bit of people breaking the law and I'm not even sure that I want to bring them, let alone talk to them. My mom thinks she's doing the right thing by following Kane. Kane possibly killed one of my best friends. I'm a traitor to the people I've lived my entire life with—again, apparently. Now, my partner—" _My boyfriend_, "—thinks I'm going to stab him in the back to run off with my informant. Life, right?" _On top of that, I'm pregnant with his child. Morning sickness isn't just in the morning although it adds a whole new concept to "morning breath" and I'm fucking exhausted… _

Octavia sighed, "We can do this, Clarke. With or without those other people. Just tell us what to do and we'll do it. You need followers? You've got nearly thirty people waiting for you to tell them to jump. You need guns? We can get them. You need Bellamy to stop acting like a jackass? Kick him where it hurts and talk it out. Just don't give up."

"I have no intentions of giving up."

"Good."

_**REVIEW!**_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

Two days.

48 Hours.

Two sunrises, two sunsets.

Clarke bit her dry lip, her teeth moving around her sensitive skin until she was satisfied that she drawn blood. She couldn't remember a time when she felt so _full _with elated, if not delayed, joy and so broken down by rejection but the combination of emotions had given her a severe case of whiplash. She sat in her bed, well aware that she was failing in her duties around camp, and stared at her bare stomach. She was absolutely certain she was showing at eight weeks. If she had the privilege of asking people, they would most likely agree with her. She definitely had a bump.

And she could be in denial about anything else in the world, she really could, but once the thought—and it was tiny at first—crossed her mind, she knew for sure that she had to tell someone other than her absent "baby daddy" about her pregnancy because if she was right—and god, she hoped she wasn't right—there was more than one baby in there. _Twins. _In was with this realization that she could be carrying twins, that she knew she had to tell her mother about her pregnancy—not for her, for _them_. If anything, her mother, nor Kane, would not be expecting her to run around stealing weapons in her condition.

She'd had her much needed time to think about _her life _and only _her life_ over the last two days of radio silence from her friends, who thought she should be grieving over someone who was not dead, and she'd come to a few conclusion. The first being that she was strong, independent and hard headed. The second being that she was no longer alone and she needed to start acting like it. The third being that she was going to be a mother, and a damn good one at that because she was a perfectionist. The last conclusion made her shiver and that was the fact that she really _needed _him around because once the emotions started, she couldn't stop them. She was turning into a fool. A happy, little (not really) fool.

So, it was the morning of the third day—the third sunrise—that she decided she needed to be the bigger person. She scrubbed her face off with a rag, zipped her jacket up to her throat and made sure no one could see what was clearly underneath her clothes and tied her hair into a messy bun. She didn't want to see the world again, she was having a nice time creeping around in the shadows, but she had to say something—had to do something before everything fell apart.

Clarke skipped the greetings when she saw him alone even if her heart was beating at a threatening pace. Her first statement after so many hours apart happened to be, "You're a jackass." Of course, he didn't get the satisfaction of seeing her face as she said the words to his back. Clarke crossed her arms as he turned around and gave her this intense look of way too many emotions to process. "But I've known that for a while now…and I can be a raging, selfish, controlling bitch sometimes and you know that, too. Now, Bellamy Blake I'm only going to say this once today, so you listen to me very carefully. _You have me like no one else will ever have me._" She shook her head as tears threatened to touch her eyes, "And it's annoyingly infuriating that you have me in such a way that I turn into this blubbering bimbo because I haven't heard your voice in two days and it's really affecting me."

"Clarke, c'mon…come here." He wrapped her in his arms and she felt _warm. _"I love you, you know that? These last two days haven't been easy for me, either…I just needed some time to think on my own. Maybe we both did… I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I freaked out. I'm sorry I stormed off. I'm sorry I didn't fix it…I just didn't know how to fix and I didn't know if I even deserved to fix it."

"It's not about who deserves it, it's about who does it." She sighed heavily, "I really don't like this mushy atmosphere that I've created and if someone sees us hugging…we're screwed." Clarke exhaled, "But in light of your recent disagreements with my secretive nature, I'm going to let you in on a little secret…"

"What's that?" He asked, a little worry seeping into his tone.

She swallowed hard, "I think there's more than one baby."

"You think someone else is pregnant?"

"No…Bellamy, I think there's more than one baby _in me._" He backed away, his face much paler in contrast to his previous skin tone. Clarke did something irrational. She unzipped her jacket and pulled up her shirt, moving to the side. It was too early in the morning for people to really be walking around camp so she had confidence in their momentary privacy. "I am showing and that's _not typical _of a regular pregnancy. I can't believe I didn't notice I was getting fat. It's sort of annoying. I thought I was maintaining my figure and all along, I was just slowly swelling day by day. It's like that wise tale with the frog and the boiling water, I guess. I don—"

"Clarke, just stop _talking _for a minute. So, we're pregnant with twins? You're telling me that you think we're having _two _babies instead of one?"

"Yes."

"Okay." His breathing was heavy, "Can we handle two babies?" He turned around to look in the opposite direction of her. He was most likely composing himself. She could tell by the tenseness of his shoulders that he was nervous…scared, even. She would love to know what he was thinking.

"No, that's why I thought we could give one two Jasper and Monty." He whipped around her remark. "I wasn't being serious. Don't freak out just yet, I'm going to tell my mom…I feel like I'm obligated to tell her seeing as twins can result in high-risk pregnancies and I need to know everything I can…" _when we get out of here and I have to have these babies without a real doctor present. _"It's just not something I'm willing to risk."

It was like her earlier confession meant nothing compared to her nonchalant statement. His eyes brightened at her words, like she'd just given him free rule of the entire planet. Then, just like that, the gleam was gone. "We have to tell people."

_No, we don't. _

_We really don't._

He nodded his head, "We really have to tell people before your mom tries to kill me…Octavia would be so pissed if she found out through a rumor…"

_This is going to fucking suck. _

**Please review! This chapter turned out a lot sweeter than I thought it would. I just wanted to show that Clarke really does care about her pregnancy and she's not as icy as it may come across. Still, it's not over for the drama (especially when Octavia is involved.) And naturally, the rebellion is still on but that may or may not cause some problems for people. **


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18:

"What the hell is going on in here?" Octavia's chimed with a smirk as Clarke finally woke up on the ground of someone's tent—she wasn't sure until she turned sideways and saw Nathan Miller asleep on his less than satisfactory cot. Clarke groaned, her jacket suspending her movements.

_It was all a dream…none of it happened… _

Clarke sucked in a deep breath, pushing herself off the ground with an unsteady breath. She remembered Bellamy's outburst. She remembered feeling sad. She remembered Octavia's support. She remembered Octavia going to bed. She remembered being invited back to Miller's tent. She remembered _almost _kissing him. She remembered laughing before telling him, _"We're sleep deprived. You're drunk. Let's not make any mistakes that could get ourselves killed."_ Then, she decided to pass out on the floor. Unfortunately, Octavia Blake did not know that version of the story. She looked at the brunette, "Uh…nothing, we—I—we talked. I fell asleep, I guess." Clarke brushed off her hands, her heart racing faster than ever. If Bellamy found out about this…in light of everything going on...

"Oh, that's what they call it these days…well, I was looking for buddy boy here for Bellamy but I'll tell him he's busy." Octavia winked. Clarke shook her head back and forth repeatedly, "What?"

"You can't tell Bellamy about this." Clarke continued to shake her head, "He'll flip out."

Octavia crossed her arms, "I really don't care if he _flips out _or not…listen, I don't care what's going on with you and Miller. I really don't but if you're this concerned about it, I'll keep your name out of it. Alright?"

"Nothing is going on between us. It's not like that." Clarke whispered, her head turning towards Miller while she talked. "I just don't want _Bellamy _to jump to conclusions."

"Fine." Octavia said, exiting the tent.

…

Clarke took in a sharp breath, her mind still hazy with the dream she had about…well, being _that version_ of herself. She found some truth in her dream, though, and it scared her immensely. She didn't want twins. She didn't want to be weak. She wanted to finish this fucking job and think about charming confessions later. Bellamy knew that she loved him, wasn't that enough? He would get over his insecurities about Oliver or Lexa or whatever. She didn't need to go all out in a dramatic type of way to tell him how she felt. Clarke didn't feel guilty for sleeping in Miller's tent. Miller was drunk, she's assumed to be single among the entire male population—of course he tried to kiss her, of course he tried to get "some". She wasn't mad about it. Nothing happened. It didn't go "too far", she didn't compromise her relationship with Bellamy in the process.

Even knowing that _nothing happened, _she also knew that she should have gone back to her room. She should have sought Bellamy out and ended their argument. Instead, she followed Miller back to his tent and stayed the night with his best friend. _That's _how Bellamy would see it…and that's why she had to be the one to tell him.

By the time lunch came around, the story was beyond embellished. Clarke didn't know that, though.

"Bellamy…" Clarke sat across him, something she rarely did because it brought attention to them. He looked up at her, clearly still annoyed with her but also a little apologetic. "I have something to tell you and you're not going to like it but before you—"

"I don't have time for this, Clarke. Not right now. Not today. I need…a minute. I can't look at you without wondering who the hell you are." He paused, "Without wondering what the hell you're willing to risk to win." Bellamy's eyes burned into hers as her lips parted. He wasn't giving up on his anger any time soon that was evident. "So, if you don't mind..."

He hurt her. Every time he opened his mouth and said something along the lines of, _"I don't know you anymore." _Clarke, unfortunately, didn't do well with hurt. It meant that she was cracking, breaking, falling apart from what she needed to be to win. "Take all the time you need. Honestly, it's not like we're on a time limit or anything." She stood up from the table, turning her back to him before she could even gauge his response.

_You have me like no one else will ever have me. _

She ran into Monty as she departed from the dining area, "I need you to figure out how to get into the armory. Soon." She told him with a pat on the shoulder, "Talk to whoever you have to but do it fast." Monty simply nodded and Clarke started to walk again.

…

She had time to think about it.

And she was wrong before.

"I'm giving you an out right now." Clarke told him as he leaned against the metal scraps of the wall. She shook her head, "I didn't before and maybe that was selfish…so, I'm giving it to you now. If you don't want to be with _me _because you can't trust _me_ then take it. I don't want to do this without you. I don't want to lead our people without you, I don't want to have a baby without you but I'm prepared to do it. I'm scared to lose you, but I can't very well lose you if you're not really mine. Can I?"

He stared at her, his jaw clenched before he looked down at his feet. She stepped closer to him until her toes were pressed against the toes of his boots. "I meant what I said before."

"Which part?"

"The part where I said I wasn't going anywhere…I don't want an out, I want _you _and I want this to be _easy…_not so damn complicated all the time. We're struggling, Clarke. You realize that if we keep this going the way things are going that we will end."

She nodded, "Yes."

"I keep thinking that it will all go away once we get out of here…the pressure, the strain on our relationship. We won't have to keep secrets anymore…" He stopped speaking for what seemed like five minutes, "But that's a lie because this duty we have will never end. You will always do whatever you have to when it comes to the majority, you're like a fucking republic…and I value the individual like a goddamn democracy…that doesn't really matter." He smirked ironically, "I was wrong to accuse you, okay? I apologize but I need you to try a little harder. Just a little harder to be honest and let me in."

"You're right, things won't change. I won't stop working with the grounders. We're going to have to deal with the aftermath of this rebellion. We aren't going to kick back and sip moonshine once this is over. It's continuous. It's never ending." Clarke rolled her eyes, "And we're having a baby, and yeah that's supposed to be fucking fantastic but…it's going to be hard. This is going to be the hardest thing we ever do because we're going to have to pretend we're not screwed up until it's true."

"I know."

"I'm not going to give up."

"I know."

"And I'm not going to let you give up, either." Clarke exhaled, "So, here we go… I'm not involved with Oliver. Did I consider him a friend? Sort of. He was my informant into the guard. Why didn't I use you? I don't know…maybe because I respect you more than that. I don't know if Lexa is alive for sure…and I don't know what will happen if she's not but I know I'm not going to let it affect my decision to revolt. Last night, I slept in Miller's tent and we didn't have sex but we could have but I wasn't going to take that risk…wasn't worth it."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Miller?"

She shrugged, "He's a cutie, Bellamy."

"I'm going to forget you just said that and let you continue." He breathed, a slight trace of a smile on his face.

"And I should have included you on the mission. I won't do it again." She concluded, "But you're right…the secrets are killing us and not just my secrets, our secrets. It's time to tell people about _us…_and the baby. It might help our case a little. We're going to be together more than ever in the next few weeks trying to get out of here, it'd be nice to have people focusing on something different."

"The opportunity cost is higher if people don't know about us. That's what you're saying…"

"Yes."

"Fine. We tell people. I think we should tell the _cutie _first, though." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her to his chest. "I think we've made progress."

"I think so, too."

**Review:**

**Sorry guys for my cute little dream chapter but it was necessary! Clarke had to come to some realizations somehow without compromising her true personality. They're both recovering from the events of the last few months so there are obviously some issues with their relationship. Things don't have remarkable recoveries and this won't be their last fight…**


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